


Magnetic

by persephine



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Canon Divergence, Classroom Sex, Cunnilingus, Drabbles, Dubious Consent, F/M, Face Sitting, Game Spoilers, Honeymoon, Lingerie, Marriage Proposal, Mating, Possible Character Death, Roommates, Shapeshifting, Sister!Makoto, Size Difference, Stockholm Syndrome, Wedding, Witchcraft, akira who, character exploration, fluffy phone calls, incubus, makes her return, priest!goro, proposal, vampire!goro, werewolf!goro - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-08-17 07:55:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 63,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16512326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/persephine/pseuds/persephine
Summary: like a moth to a flame looking to be burned.(Makoto/Goro prompt requests)





	1. and they were roommates

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I have started a series dedicated to the prompts requested by my Kofi supporters. I’m open to AUs, drabbles, character exploration, etc. anything you’d be interested in. If you’d like to support me and have a prompt of sorts you’d like me to write, consider buying me a coffee!
> 
> https://ko-fi.com/persephine 
> 
> Thank you for all your support and your love for Makoto/Goro. <3
> 
> ———
> 
> TigerRaiken requested a college dorm roommate AU

“Oh, no.” 

 

The moment Akechi Goro, the infamous know-it-all smartass from Intro to Philosophy with Professor Kawakami walked into her dorm room, Makoto knew there had been a mistake. She leapt from the comfortable (as comfortable as comfortable gets in a dorm) twin sized bed she had been idly laying in as she waited for the arrival of her supposed roommate. 

 

“Hello to you too,” he announced out of breath, hair immaculate even as he lugged in a single suitcase into the room up the three flights of stairs.

 

Makoto pushed on his back with all her strength when he turned and was surprised to find that he stood as stable and unmoving as a rock. 

 

“You’re not my roommate,” she decided for him.

 

“And to that I would disagree, albeit color me surprised as well.”

 

Makoto reached for the papers between his fingers and he let her. Her eyes ran from left to right, up and down as she scanned for the name of who might have made this mistake, only to encounter that right next to ‘Akechi Goro,’ the prominent letter ‘F’ was noted proudly by writing that didn’t belong to the detective prince. 

 

“Are you  _ slight _ ?” she asked with the only few cells of politeness left in her body, “You wrote female for your gender.”

 

“I… didn’t write that,” he confessed, “I was swamped with cases this summer that I had someone else fill out the-“

 

“So, you somehow presented yourself on paper to garner the impression that you’re a girl. Even while being famous,” she said matter-of-factly.

 

He ignored her comment to eye the room as if it had only caught his attention for the first time. An obvious, resounding yes came from his actions. Makoto sighed loudly when he wasn’t cooperating. 

 

“You realize this is a girls only dorm, right?!” she yelped, “You need to get this fixed. There’s no way I’m rooming with you for an entire year.”

 

“What about a semester?” he asked impishly. 

 

“No! I’m not rooming with you,” she said finally.

 

“You wound me,” he continued, ignoring her exasperations. 

 

“I’d appreciate it if you’d take this a little more seriously,” she said firmly. 

 

“And I’d tell you that this isn’t the worst thing that could happen to you,” he shrugged, “It’s a little too late to change the room arrangements, I’m afraid-“

 

“You don’t know that-“

 

“I’m pretty good friends with management.”

 

“I highly doubt you have friends-“

 

“So what do you propose we do? I mean, you seem hellbent on fixing this when I’m telling you there’s no way.”

 

“You’re only saying that because you don’t want to try!”

 

“On the contrary,” he cleared his throat, “I’m all about bending the rules, believe it or not. Just not right now.”

 

“If you don’t do something about it, then I will,” she said unwavering. 

 

“Ah, just as planned,” he said triumphantly.

 

Makoto was stunned at his carefreeness. She would’ve thought Akechi Goro, king of caring what people thought about him, would at least have some sort of semblance of walking out of a girls’ dorm but he seemed nonchalant to the point of concern.

 

“We’re going together,” she decided, grabbing him by the wrist and yanking him down all three flights of stairs.

 

———

 

“Hi,” Makoto announced politely when they reached the desk of the supposed dorm manager.

 

The guy took one look at the two of them, sighed, and immediately closed the book he had been reading in front of him. He flipped it over to the backside quickly before either one of them could catch the title. Though the recognizable patterned grey tie on the cover made both of them raise a brow, having caught their respective roommates from the year before reading ecstatically in bed. It could only be  _ Fifty Shades of Grey _ . 

 

“Can I help you?” the manager asked, obviously annoyed about being bothered when he was  _ so  _ busy. 

 

“It seems there’s been a mistake in our rooming situation,” Makoto started in embarrassment.

 

_ He’s a boy. I’m a girl. Can you do something about it, thanks.  _

 

“I think that Akechi-kun here has been wrongly assigned to my dorm room,” Makoto explained. 

 

Akechi-kun raised his left hand to ensure there was no confusion. The poor guy sighed once more when Makoto slid their dorm assignments to him sheepishly. He glanced over them, turning his head to compare the two packets in front of him.

 

“345. 345. Seems right to me,” he shrugged, “What’s the problem?”

 

“Well, you see… it’s a girls only dorm,” Makoto explained plainly, unbelieving that she was spelling it out to someone that had been trained to solve problems like theirs.

 

He leaned forward to look at Makoto calmly, eyes in the most confused daze she’d ever seen.

 

“Akechi Goro is a girl,” he told her slowly as if hoping she’d understand, “Says so here.”

 

Akechi nodded in agreement. Makoto couldn’t believe what was happening.

 

———

 

Two weeks into the semester, Makoto was, at the very least, relieved that none of the girls on the same floor as them had bothered to ask why Akechi was her roommate. In fact, they seemed very accepting about his presence- such a progressive and respectable thing to do to break the gender norms of society, they announced. He left early in the morning and bothered no one, and he arrived home late to promptly go to sleep. He was bothering no one except for Makoto. 

 

She thought she was off the hook with her rooming situation until she noticed that Akechi had slipped in as a late arrival to her second-year sociology class, and then again when he sat next to her in biology the following day. She swore she was in a terrible loop of a nightmare and decided to confront him that Friday night when it got worse. 

 

“I think it’s really cute that your boyfriend’s taking the same classes as you to spend more time with you,” Eiko, her roommate from the year prior, whispered to her in class.

 

“What?!” she shrieked, interrupting the lecture.

 

The professor threw her an annoyed glance, clearing her throat to remind her that class was in session. Makoto adjusted in her seat, face red in realization. She glanced over to Akechi from the other side of the room. His hand was cupping his cheek when his gaze met hers, the corner of his mouth raising slightly as if he knew what had flustered her. His long, gloves fingers flipped his fountain pen in a perfect spin before catching it to jot down something the teacher hadn’t said. 

 

Confrontation would prove even more difficult than she had imagined.

 

——— 

 

When Makoto was nervous, she fidgeted. When she was  _ very  _ nervous, she paced the room. The few hours she thought she had to prepare the proper way to convey her concerns were no longer when Akechi walked into their room much earlier than he usually had. 

 

“Whaaat are you doing here?!” she yelped in surprise.

 

“I live here,” he smirked, closing the door behind him.

 

Makoto hated him. The stupid tie he always wore that he worked on loosening around that dumb neck of his. The dumb gloves he slid off his hands now, just in case some murder happened on campus so he could be the first to investigate, to run through the layered strands of his dumb, perfect hair. She hated him. A lot. She hated him even more when he slid out of his double-breasted blazer, obvious muscles rippling under the outline of his pure white shirt that she had the  _ misfortune _ of feeling for the first time when she forced him downstairs the first day of their encounter. 

 

“Yes?” he asked inquisitively, snapping her out of her  _ daydream,  _ “You’ve been staring at me like I’m your prey for quite some time now. Is there something you’d like to say?” 

 

“No.”

 

 _Yes._ _Why are you so attractive and why are you torturing me?_

 

“Are you… stalking me?” she finally asked in a panic when he began to undo the buttons on his shirt’s cuffs.

 

“People can take the same class as you without stalking you, Makoto,” he smirked, reading her thoughts, “Don’t flatter yourself.”

 

“Y-you weren’t there on the first day,” she said quickly, “or the first week actually.”

 

“You noticed,” he commented.

 

Oh no.

 

“No I-“

 

“Are you sure you’re not the one stalking me?” he asked lowly, moving closer to her.

 

“No!” she shrieked just as loudly as she had earlier that day.

 

“You seem so adamant about it, I find it hard to believe you,” he smirked, getting closer and closer.

 

Makoto had been so stunned by his questioning that she hadn’t realized his face was mere inches from hers. 

 

“Why are you making this so hard?” she cried. 

 

“It doesn’t have to be,” he murmured, closing whatever space between them was left to kiss her. 

 

She ran her fingers curiously through the strands of his hair that often mesmerized her, and to her delight found that it was just as immaculate as it looked with not an ounce of product to be found. Her lips pressed against his as if she wanted to kiss his dumb, attractive face for a long time. She did. He knew. She knew. 

 

He pulled away to let her breathe, thoroughly impressed by her untapped maneuvering. 

 

“See? It doesn’t have to be hard,” he whispered huskily to her, fingers pressing on her jaw gently. 

 

“What’s next?” she asked curiously, dipping her hips into his frame when he pulled her close. 

 

“Whatever you want,” he cooed, lips already on her neck preemptively to seduce her. 

 

She wanted him to move out. Or maybe make out for a little while longer. Either would be fine. They opted for the latter when he locked the door and pressed her down onto her  _ comfortable  _ twin bed. 

  
  



	2. look at the cross, and i look away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lick my lips and taste yourself, let me roll your blood on my tongue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TigerRaiken requested vampire!Goro and nun!Makoto, his one and only. Thank you for your continued support! I had a lot of fun writing this one, _so much fun that I wrote it in one sitting._

The sight of the rusty, old convent made the blood in Akechi’s body churn, and not in a good way. The place was wrought with old women whom he’d seen take the knee from the very beginning, so to speak. There was a time when life was aplenty in the depths of the forest that he had built his kingdom around. A lonely place, it was always dark - not a lick of the sun’s rays entered his domain - a perfect place for him to take up residence as he lived out the rest of eternity. But nothing grew in that horrid place - the blood of the animals had long sated his appetite for human blood but it was no longer  _ enough _ . 

 

The first night he had attempted to make a human his prey proved to be horrific. His fangs sinking into the old, loose neck of the poor nun almost tasted worse than the rabbits or occasional deer who had the misfortune of wandering near his territory. Unfortunately for him, the other nuns had seen him - he wasn’t particularly seasoned in knowing how to stay hidden around humans. It’d been a century too long since he had interacted with humans, and he was glad for it. 

 

Until the day she arrived. A young, pretty nun had taken the habit, and he thought it quite a shame. From behind, it was obvious her back wasn’t hunched like most of the others, and she sank to her knees with ease when they gathered in front of their lone idol’s statue in the center of the church. He peered in with ease through a high window unbeknownst to the convent’s inhabitants. He watched the new nun with great attention, eyes unmoving as she clasped her hands near her chest. There was something unsettling about her, and he grew impatient to know it- and he had his entire life to learn the agony of impatience and forever. The prayer was its usual length of two hours, a mere two minutes it felt like to Akechi. The nun stood at its end, and finally in her reveal, he had seen her face for the first time. She was young most definitely, and extremely reminiscent of someone he had once recalled as his lover. His empty vessel of an unbeating heart seemed to pump for the first time in centuries, and he knew. 

 

She walked towards the wall where he had been watching them, the smell of her blood driving his ravenous hunger in an unspeakable way that he hadn’t experienced in centuries. Akechi’s eyes rolled into his skull, fangs bared underneath the pale moonlight as he rode out the unfamiliar sensation. He growled at her scent, young and vitalized blood. 

 

He had to taste her. He had to have her. She would be his.

 

Tiny whispers came through the walls by the time Niijima Makoto had learned there was a  _ creature _ amongst them that yanked the veins of one of the nuns the year before. She sulked to herself quietly, unhappy that she had taken up the promise of staying at the place for at least a year before she could even put in a request to transfer. The older nuns advised her not to wander too far into the forest, for another poor nun had made her way there once in pure curiosity. She never returned. 

 

The thought made chills go up and down her spine, and for a moment she wondered if she would have preferred the presence of a ghost than the potential danger of a creature of the night. She didn’t even try to process the comparison, hugging her arms tightly as she quickened her pace to her room. Unbeknownst to her, an unfamiliar shadow lurked above her, following her every move. 

 

The moment Makoto had made it to her room safely and locked the door, she felt a powerful force knock her backward and into the wall. She couldn’t have even attempted to hold her ground when a sea of black enveloped her. In that space of darkness, she was mute, screams unheard. The fright of the unknown made her lids heavy, and she dropped to the floor unconscious. She had, unknowingly, fallen right into the arms of the  _ vampire _ that had long since haunted the convent. 

 

He held her out into the moonlight of the tall window by her bed, arm tucked around her waist as he held the weight of her body with ease. Her lips parted slightly as her head lulled into his arm. Akechi noted her tall nose, her small, but full lips. She had an impeccable bone structure for certain, high cheekbones to boot. Her choppy bangs framed her petite face, and his eyes met the length of her lashes for a moment. She had red eyes, he had seen them in her moment of horror. There was no denying it - his one, true love reincarnated. She’d leave with him now, and he’d make sure she’d make no return.

 

She belonged to him, and him alone. 

 

\------

 

Makoto awoke to a pain she hadn’t felt in such a long time, hands and feet bound. She shut her eyes immediately for fear of encountering her predator who might have been waiting for her to squirm in her wake. A velvety voice erupted her panicked thoughts. 

 

“You’re awake, my love.” 

 

The voice seemed to rumble all around her, as if it’d taken over her body as its owner. There was no use in closing her eyes. Akechi watched her struggle in fear, red eyes wide as she sought a way to escape. He felt what was left of his heart tug taut as he watched the poor nun shiver like a butterfly entrapped in the web of a spider. Makoto’s demeanor changed quickly as if she sensed a new resolve. She’d face her captor. 

 

“Show yourself,” she announced, voice trembling even with her newfound courage.

 

For the first time, he felt hesitation in revealing himself. Whatever carnage he had plowed through in the many centuries prior crept up to him now - he wanted to be good for her. He was nervous. 

 

Makoto waited for the voice to come again. 

 

“I’m not afraid of you,” she attempted to convince the voice.

 

Akechi fell from the ceiling, landing gracefully without a second consideration for air resistance. His face hovered above hers, hands ghosting over her arms.

 

“How about now?” he asked in great interest, fangs in full display as he grinned above her.

 

Makoto wanted to scream. The unfortunate part was that he was devilishly handsome, and unlike any man she had ever seen before. The pale moonlight painted him as if he were some Renaissance painting, a demigod of sorts with a beautiful face. His long, brown hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, and she felt her body freeze up at the sight of someone so attractive. 

 

She shook her head in a lie as she stared up at him with her wide, red eyes. 

 

“You have red eyes in this lifetime,” he sighed dreamily, “As if you couldn’t wound me even more with your beauty.” 

 

She couldn’t help but flush at the compliment, even without any idea what he was going on about, having been made fun of her entire life for seeking a religious life with eyes that belonged to that of a woman who clearly hailed Satan. For a moment, Makoto was grateful he hadn’t attempted to touch her, but he would soon prove otherwise when the length of his gloved hands traced her jaw gingerly. She whimpered as he entered her boundaries, face much too close for comfort and his legs straddling her hips as she laid there in the tiny, enclosed space. 

 

“I must be out of my mind if I thought even for a moment that you might remember me,” he continued sadly, “No matter. We have all the time in this world, you and I.” 

 

“I think,” she found the courage to speak, “you have the wrong person.”

 

Akechi smiled wearily at her, fingers running through her blunt bangs before pulling off the headpiece of her habit. Makoto grimaced at his action, wondering if her habit would come next. 

 

“You’re shaking,” he noticed, “This human body wasn’t built to contain you. That will change soon.”

 

“What are you going on about?! Are you going to… slice me open or something?!” she asked incredulously.

 

“Of course not,” he said, brows furrowing, “If I free you, do you promise me you’ll stay put?” 

 

Makoto nodded, knowing very well she’d run. The poor, once-heartbroken, now-love stricken vampire believed her honeyed words. With a snap of his fingers, the chains around her wrists and ankles unbound. He leapt off of her, waiting for her to stand. She took her time, planning her escape route with short glances around the room. She crawled out of whatever container she was in, and stepped out of it. In her realization, he had placed her in a coffin and she screamed. She was weak, having only woken up from her slumber moments ago, found that in her attempt to run she tripped over the length of her habit. Akechi had graciously caught her. 

 

“You promised me,” he said sadly. 

 

She couldn’t hold it in anymore.

  
“I want to know where I am,” she cried, tears streaming down her face as she hid behind her long sleeves, “I want to know why you’ve taken me here, who you are, all of it! I want to know now.” 

 

The long years Akechi had spent in isolation hadn’t prepared him for the emotional response of the woman he loved so unconditionally. 

 

“I hurt you,” he commented sullenly, recognizing her tears as such. 

 

“Yes! I mean, no,” she sobbed, “I’m sure you didn’t mean it but… I just want to know why you’re doing this.” 

 

She was confused.

 

“Because you’re mine,” he said plainly.

 

“I’m not- What? I don’t even know you and-”

 

“You do,” he said lowly, “Look deep within yourself and you will find those answers.”

 

“I’m just a nun! My father was a policeman and my sister’s a prosecutor. There’s no way I know you,” she said indignantly.

 

He stared at her in equal confusion for a moment, and only then did he realize. He grew angry.

 

“You don’t remember…?”

 

“How am I supposed to remember anything?” 

 

His pupils dilated, his hunger growing tenfold when he began to process that his one and only had reincarnated with a completely blank slate. All the years prior that they had spent was erased. All the nights he spent drinking her to his heart’s content as they made love, her obedience and loyalty to him -gone. Makoto whimpered when his eyes turned bright red as his stare bore into her skull. 

 

She felt that unknown, powerful force once more when she was thrown backwards and onto the floor. His heart throbbed in pain when he saw her mortal body wince in pain. The feeling left as quick as it came and he pinned her to the cold ground. He wouldn’t dare to drive his fangs deep into her neck for fear of killing her. His lover before had been weaned into the length of his feeding sessions, and Akechi suddenly felt grateful that he had learned she was otherwise. He really could have killed her. 

 

He ripped the skirt of her habit with ease, much to her vocal dismay. Makoto watched in both confusion and fear as he pulled off each glove with those fangs of his. Only when his hands sought the touch of her warm flesh around her thighs did she realize something. He was cold, so unbearably cold. He was dead.

 

“W-what… are you,” she weeped in further confusion.

 

“Vampire,” he answered her question simply, fangs tracing the curve of her jaw.

 

He heard her whimper in fear at the realization, but he didn’t stop in his ministrations. He hadn’t felt her in such an agonizingly long time. The feel of the warmth of her body drove his craving and lust for her blood close to the edge. 

 

“Name,” she blurted out, “I want your name.”

 

“Akechi Goro,” he answered once more willingly.

 

“Akechi, why are you doing this?” she asked once more. 

 

“Like I said once before,” he said dangerously, teeth grazing her neck uncomfortably, “You’re mine.”

 

She heard him snarl and she jumped.

 

“Wait! Wait, please. Please.” 

 

He granted her wish painfully. 

  
“Aren’t you going to ask for my name?” she asked, clearly stalling for what she knew would come next.

 

“Give it to me,” he commanded.

 

“Makoto. N-Niijima Makoto.”

 

“Makoto. That is your name this time around?” he inquired.

 

She nodded.

 

“I would prefer if I could call you by your true name,” he countered.

 

“Makoto. Please, call me Makoto,” she pressed amicably. 

 

“Fine. Whatever my mistress wishes.” 

 

“... Are you going to kill me?” she asked hesitantly.

 

“No,” he answered almost appalled. 

 

“... I wish to go back to the convent, please,” she tried.

 

“No.” 

 

“Please.”

 

“The night is long, Makoto. Too long,” he said wearily, “How long I’ve waited for you… I knew I had lost you forever. Eternity has granted me my only wish, it seems.”

 

“I-I’m sorry but… there’s no such thing as reincarnation-”

 

“Is that what you think, my dear?” he smirked, “Your book has taught you incorrectly.”

 

“Don’t patronize me.”

 

He was taken aback at his lover’s comment. She yelped when he slid his hands further up her leg. 

 

“I require your obedience if you ever expect to see that convent again,” he demanded, fingers slowly slipping under the stretch of her panties.

 

“Okay, okay, yes. I’ll do as you say. Anything. Anything but  _ that _ ,” she murmured in fear.

 

“That?”

 

“What you’re doing...”

 

“Seducing you?” 

 

“... Yes. Anything but that.”

 

It dawned on him only now that his dearest was a virgin. His fingers slipped away from what was his and waited patiently for her next wish. Though she couldn’t deny the sparks of electricity that traveled down her abdomen from being touched like that. She hadn’t felt anything like it before, and it was driving her insane and tampered with her thoughts so. Poor Akechi was confused, he had only known to seduce his lover in the past to earn her affections. His only line of tactic in winning her back had been cut, and he faltered. 

 

“What can I do, then?” he implored, “To make you happy.”

 

“I…. I want to go back to the convent,” she said meekly.

 

“That is the one thing I cannot give you.” 

 

“Why?! You said if I was obedient-”

 

“That was before. I plan to keep you. You’re mine. What is so hard to understand?” he asked possessively. 

 

“You  _ can’t _ ,” she hissed, “I’m not yours to keep.”

 

“Makoto,” he began lowly, the strangeness of her name tainting his tongue, “I’m afraid you underestimate my abilities, and you are testing all the patience I have. You will learn to love me, or you will taste my wrath.”

 

“I’ll take the latter,” she sneered. 

 

His heart broke as if it couldn’t break anymore. 

 

\------

 

The days turned into weeks, and Makoto swore she was going insane and losing whatever hope she had left of leaving. Though she felt concern for the fact that no one had bothered to go looking for her, as if she was an offering to the grumpy vampire they had kept as a secret from her. 

 

In the time that she was there in that wretched place, she’d opened the windows, much to Akechi’s dismay as he hissed at what little light came in during the day. The dust that had tarnished every corner of his  _ kingdom _ had been vanquished thanks to the few days she had ignored him to clean. He had nearly tore the place apart when she ignored him the first day, slamming her against the wall to seduce her once more. She’d rejected his advances with ease, and he was left to sulk in the dark of his study. 

 

Makoto used the headpiece he had ripped off of her to hold her hair in place as she cleaned, a reminder of when she was home. She had taken the torn habit and ripped the length of the skirt so she could move more easily- averting his pounces had proven much easier now that she had the mobility to do so. By the end of their first week together, he had presented her with most beautiful and luxurious dresses she could have ever imagined, demanding that she wear them in his presence. She had turned him down politely, facing another round of his tantrums and wrath. 

 

By the end of their month together, Makoto had somehow tamed the vampire. Akechi not only allowed her her own room, albeit he was very angry and distraught about it initially. She’d convinced him to rescue her precious belongings from the room back at the convent. She wished to be able to study the Bible, she told him, if her numbered days were to be spent in his company. He seemed confused at her use of the word ‘numbered,’ knowing very well she’d spend the rest of eternity with him. But she didn’t know that. 

 

In turn, she made him dinner, preying on the poor creatures that wandered into his territory. When the meat of whatever animal she cooked that night paled in comparison to even the slightest  _ scent _ of her, he’d run her up the wall of her study that night to test what little restraint he had left before he’d try to sink his teeth deep into the pretty blue veins on her neck. And every time, he pulled away for her. In a world where he knew loneliness like no other, and no rivalry like eternity’s time, he lost to Makoto again and again. He could only be commanded by her. He could only fall for her over and over again, and she soon learned that. 

 

One night, when their time together proved to be much more domestic than aggressive, Akechi went into her room while she was praying. His fingers wound around the red-brown of the rosary beads that sat around her neck. Makoto, having mastered the ability to sense his invisible and near silent movements, didn’t flinch as she once did. She felt the brush of his fingers on the back of her neck, and she simply sighed into his touch. Akechi felt his lower body twitch at her response.

 

“Have dinner with me,” he said, voice soft, yet the nature of his statement still made it a demand.

 

“I do,” she replied matter-of-factly, having learned very well how to get under his skin. 

 

“I want to do it this time,” he continued.

 

Makoto opened her eyes, unmoving. 

 

“You want to cook tomorrow?” she asked, hands falling gently to her side as she turned to look at him.

 

He didn’t say anything nor acknowledge her question. His eyes were mesmerized by each bead on the rosary.

 

“I still haven’t tasted you,” he said in a small voice, “I must admit, I feel like I’m fading.”

 

“Fading?” she asked in surprise, standing up to look up at him, “Are you ill?”

 

He nodded weakly.

 

“It happens like this once in a while,” he explained.

 

“How long is once in a while?” Makoto had learned to ask questions like this, for her measure of time was nowhere near his.

 

“As it nears every full moon,” he admitted. 

 

“... Is there anything I can do?” she asked meekly, knowing very well what  _ help _ might entail.   
  


“Just a taste,” he growled softly.

 

“N-no,” she pleaded.

 

His fingers pressed against her cheek, and she leaned into it lovingly. She didn’t want him to disappear, but she did wonder for a moment if she’d simply just go back to her life like she had never left. 

 

“I wouldn’t hurt you,” he promised.

 

“But it would hurt,” she pointed out.

 

“Nothing is painless, my love. If you could have reached in and felt my heart when I had to watch them tear you apart, you would understand true pain,” he told her.

 

Makoto was quiet, her small hand reaching to feel the cold of his. She had somehow discovered that she quite liked the feeling, seeking comfort some nights when she had a hard time sleeping alone. 

 

“What was she like?” she asked for the first time, inquisitive of his previous lover, “Your lover. I still don’t know her name.”

 

“The resemblance is uncanny,” he explained, “save for your eyes. She wasn’t as reluctant as you were during our first session. I must say, you are still very similar.”

 

“So she… was okay with you seducing her?” she asked shyly.

 

“Hmm. Very,” he grinned at their frivolous memories, “It got to the point where she’d come begging me for it.”

 

Makoto twitched uncomfortably at the implications.

 

“For you to suck her blood, right?” she asked plainly.

 

“That,” he replied, smirking seductively, “and much more. She was insatiable much like I am with you now. I suppose the tables have turned on me.”

 

Makoto thought for a moment, relishing in Akechi’s touch. 

 

“Let’s have dinner tomorrow,” she suggested as if it was her idea.

 

Akechi looked at her reluctantly now, much to her surprise.

 

“Do you not want to anymore?” she asked.

 

“It’s not that.”

 

For the first time, Makoto wondered if he had the ability to love her for her, and not simply because she had the face of his past lover. There was still so much about her she didn’t know, and even less about him. She wondered if she’d been simply a few-centuries old rebound for him with the way he’d sigh and grow sullen at the way he spoke about her. 

 

“I’ll wear those dresses you like,” she offered sheepishly.

 

She saw his eyes widen and she couldn’t help but choke out a small laugh. Makoto was starting to like him, that was for certain. 

 

\------

 

The following day, Makoto had made up her mind when she went out to tend the garden out back. She had found the perfect spot amidst the darkness of the forest where the sun was just enough for her to grow vegetables. 

 

Akechi had allowed her to go into the town and purchase the seeds herself, growing ill and sick for a few hours unsure if she’d run away or not. For the first time in centuries, he swore he knew what three hours felt like in real time. When she returned home that day, he enveloped her in his arms, face buried in her hair as she wrapped herself in his cape. Makoto soon learned of his loneliness, and how long he had truly gone without interaction when he’d hold her tight like that for hours on end. She learned he especially liked it when she hushed him, running her fingers through his hair as he slipped into a temporary slumber with his face against the crook of her neck. 

 

She returned inside to witness his attempt at cooking for the both of them. Stifling a laugh, she couldn’t help but recognize his primal instinct to simply put the dead animal on both their plates, blood oozing and guts still intact. Makoto drained them of their blood, pouring the liquid into its own container as she assigned him the easy task of chopping up the vegetables. He frowned, fully intending to do it all alone to impress her. She offered him the task of plating the dish in the end, dismissing herself to tidy up in time for dinner. 

 

By the time she had placed her hand on his shoulder to signify her entrance, and made her way to sit at the other end of the table, Akechi had hardly recognized her. The blood red of the velvet dress framed her body sinfully, as if the garment had been sewn and tailored for her and her alone. When she looked over at him shyly, he could tell how much the fabric brought out the color of her eyes. He found himself swallowing painfully when she took her seat, bosom bouncing slightly given how tightly she had tied the corset around her torso. It’d been the first time he had seen so much flesh exposed on her body -at least in her upper area- it was proving difficult to focus on his dinner. His unfortunate senses knew exactly where each vein was in her body, and all he could do was watch hungrily from across the way as Makoto chewed and swallowed, neck in full view. 

 

“Makoto,” he choked.

 

“Hm?”

 

“Thank you for… dressing up. And helping me cook dinner,” he said just loud enough for her to hear.

 

She blushed and smiled at his gratefulness. 

 

“It was nothing,” she replied.

 

“It wasn’t nothing,” he frowned.

 

“No, I mean… It’s a saying. It’s another way to say ‘you’re welcome,’” she explained.

 

He nodded in reluctant understanding. They finished the rest of their dinner in silence. At the end of their meal, he’d usually watch Makoto retire to her own room, a reminder that she didn’t want to be disturbed until the next day. He was angry initially, and then depressed, and soon it became unceremonious especially when she described to him that it was common for people like her to ‘rebel’ against their ‘parentals.’ He hadn’t quite understood what she meant, but chalked it up to the fact that it was a modern day thing. This time, she wiped her mouth clean, set it over her plate and made her way to his end. 

 

The walk wasn’t far, though the table was much too long for her liking, and he began to share her sentiment especially when she took long steps over to him. He could’ve sworn that eternity doubled. Something had changed in her, and he couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was until she nearly settled into his lap. He felt her sighing for a moment after holding her breath in. 

 

“Do you still want to taste me?” she asked breathily.

 

Akechi’s eyes dilated at her question, knowing very well what she was offering. He didn’t dare give her a response, for that moment was wasteful when he could be spending that time devouring her. Within a flash, Makoto had witnessed his hyperspeed ability once more as he rushed her into his room. In a blink of an eye, he had planted her right in the middle of his large bed meant for two. 

 

“W-wait, Akechi-”

 

“Goro,” he said plainly. 

 

“G-Goro….” she practiced, “I’m still. You know.”

 

“Do you trust me?” he asked feverishly.

 

Makoto nodded honestly. He grabbed her hand and pressed her palm against his chest. She jumped when she felt his heart beat.

 

“You’ve brought me back to life,” he whispered. 

 

“H-how…?” she asked.

 

“Another story for another time, darling. I need you now,” he breathed. 

 

She braced herself for the strength that she had witnessed too many times. All the moments she’d spent against the wall as he fought with himself to hold back were proving to be numerous. But he was surprisingly gentle, his usually-cold fingers felt warm for the first time when he pressed them into her shoulders - that or Makoto was burning up. He undid the ties on her corset, freeing her from the suffocating garment, and she was relieved. He pulled up the length of the skirts, and pooled them around her waist easily. Makoto yelped anxiously when he pulled off her underwear in one motion, leaving her bare to him for the first time. She instinctively went to hide herself.

 

“Don’t hide yourself. Not from me,” he pleaded.

 

She nodded, face red even as he pried her hands away. Akechi felt his mouth water at the sight of her beneath him. He freed himself of the heavy coat he wore, leaving himself only in a wrinkle-free dress shirt. Makoto swallowed when his arms came down to encase her - she learned he liked to do this a lot - and he pressed his lips to hers tentatively. It was the first time she’d ever been kissed, and she knew she wouldn’t be particularly good at it. Akechi didn’t seem to mind, slipping his tongue easily between her lips, hand on the back of her neck to prop her up. Makoto sighed into his touch, thinking that had his seductions earlier on been anything like this, she might have surrendered much sooner. He was gentle when he pried the full sleeves off of her shoulder, baring her neck to his view. Her heart pounded and blood ran up those veins that had taunted him for so long - the only reminder he needed that she was still human. 

 

He snapped himself out of the tantalizing thoughts and focused on pleasing her. 

 

“This part won’t hurt,” he told her as he crawled between her legs. 

 

He slid his tongue between her folds, curating a sensation she had never felt before. Makoto let out a high-pitched scream, the reverberations of her voice simmered into a moan- enough for him to know that he could keep going. It was unlike anything she could’ve imagined in the time she had mulled over anxiously the inevitable claim he’d stake on her virginity. She loosened up, basking in the feeling of his expert tongue stroking her like he knew her body inside out. 

 

“Oh, my god. Is this… Is this what I’ve been missing?” she moaned.

 

Akechi chuckled lowly at her excitement, feeling her fingers grip at his hair as she bucked her hips into his tongue. 

 

“More,” she whispered into the night, “Show me more.”

 

He pulled away slightly.

 

“I will, my love,” he murmured, “This is only a taste of what’s yet to come.” 

 

He heard her moan at just the  _ thought _ of what more could mean. She wasn’t completely innocent, knowing very well that what they were doing constituted as a promise in forever. A promise that she would be his forever, and Makoto was more than willing now if him between her legs was what eternity would be like. She had a feeling he wouldn’t be  _ entirely _ against the idea. He felt her tremble to signify how close she was from coming, and he stopped entirely. 

 

Her groan was all he needed to know that she wanted him in return. He’d teach her that his insatiable lust knew no bounds. 

 

“This part will hurt,” he told her honestly.

 

She sighed in anticipation.

 

“I’ll make it as painless as possible,” he reassured her, kissing her forehead.

 

“Please,” she pleaded, pulling him close to her face, “Whatever it takes.” 

 

“What’s that, my love?”

 

“I want you to feel… better,” she admitted shyly, “I want you to feel good.” 

 

“You don’t mean-”

 

She nodded. She pulled down whatever expensive fabric was left on her torso and motioned to her neck so that he’d make no mistake. 

 

“You know what this means, don’t you? Makoto?” he asked her carefully.

 

“I don’t mind.”

 

“It’s not about you minding. It’s a matter of being with me forever,” he said firmly.

 

“I want to,” she muttered quietly, “Show me what forever is like.”

 

Akechi’s heart fluttered, and some unknown sensation he hadn’t felt in decades flood through his veins and into his skull. He pressed his erection against her stomach firmly. 

 

“With pleasure,” he agreed fervently.

 

He held her in his arms, sinking the tip of his erect member in gently at first. She hissed, nails digging into his shoulders and whatever part of his body she could grab a hold of as he did so. He hushed her when those noises of anticipation turned into painful whimpers, kissing all over her jaw and down her neck. Just the curve of his nose so close to her veins drove him off the edge. He could wait no longer when he sank the rest of his length inside of her, from the tip to the hilt. Akechi anticipated her scream of pain, and assured her pleasure would come soon with promising kisses down the side of her neck. He hesitated for a moment, the resounded beat of her heart reminding him of her humanity and also that she was willing and ready. Without notification, he sank his fangs into her neck for the first time. 

 

Makoto bucked, not knowing which pain was more unbearable. He lapped at her blood, sucking on her skin as he throbbed inside of her. She felt so much pain that she instinctively tore through his shirt to bite on the junction between his neck and shoulder for comfort. Akechi began to move, knowing that the pain had disappeared at the very least as he thrust in and out of her easily. Her grip on his body subsided, either because she was slipping into sleep from the amount of blood she was losing, or because he was killing her. Akechi pulled away in fear, blood dripping from his teeth onto her neck.

 

“Did I hurt you?” he asked in a panic.

 

“I’m fine,” she reassured him weakly.

 

Her fervor returned when he pulled away from sucking on her neck, and he continued his ministrations. Makoto pawed at him, fingers seeking his face for reassurance. He kissed her palm, the back of her hand, and then each digit to promise no harm would befall her. He felt the sensation of her body trembling, mouth ajar as she tried to process the sudden betrayal of her body.

 

“Is this… Is this what… forever is like,” she asked, words punctuated by his thrusts. 

 

“Yes. This is what our forever will be like,” he promised, pumping in and out of her much to her satisfaction.

 

“W-what’s…-”

 

“Come for me, my love,” he prodded. 

 

Makoto chalked up the feeling of coming to that of what she read an orgasm to be like, only everything with Akechi seemed to be so much more indescribable. She’d never slept with another person, but she would’ve sworn it’d be nothing like what Akechi could offer her. She wouldn’t have had it any other way. He felt her body throbbing, and then her voice utter a string of intangible words and moans. Akechi neglected his own desire to come, but he felt her resist when he began to pull away. 

 

“Christ,” she breathed, “I want to feel you.”

 

“You’re certain?” he asked carefully, voice breaking with each passing second that he denied himself his release.

 

“Yes, yes. All of it. Show me all of it.”

 

He did just that, thrusting into her again, this time at his own pace. He rutted inside of her with no mercy, riding out the short wave of time before his own orgasm. She knew it had been a long time, a very long time. Akechi’s face twisted in pleasure as she held him close to her chest. Their bodies intertwined for the first time, and just the thought of being so close to her was enough to make him come. Although he was silent, she could feel his heart against her own when he pressed the side of his face against her chest, knowing very well that he was satiated for now.

 

“Goro?” she asked.

 

“Yes, my love?” he responded.

 

She’d been at a loss for words now. For the first time, she felt a taste of what little of his love he had bestowed upon her in their moment, and the vast openness of what he had left to show her. After all, they had forever. Makoto relished in the thought of an eternity, and saved whatever words she had for later as she and her lover drifted into a long slumber. 

 


	3. forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and if you could I know you'd take it back and run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you FancyPotatocake for commissioning for more Vampire!Goro... Truth be told, I have not stopped thinking about that concept since I wrote the first part of this fic... I'm so happy you asked for more.

It was too dark to tell if morning was near when Makoto woke in a wave of cold sweat, body trembling as blood pumped through her veins in a broken staccato. As if he could sense her troubles, Akechi turned over to comfort his lover, head near her pulse. She groaned, nails nearly scratching off her skin as she felt her body burn. 

 

“What’s happening?” she breathed desperately, “Everything hurts. It burns.”

 

“Hush, my love. It’ll pass,” Akechi soothed.

 

He gave her no indication as to why her blood seemed to boil, neck and face feverish. She hadn’t tasted him in their encounter earlier that night - certainly, no reason for her to be experiencing any of the repercussions.

 

“Am I… turning?” she asked fearfully.

 

“No,” he hushed, raining comforting kisses along her jaw and neck. 

 

“Why is this happening?” she asked again.

 

“Copulation.”

 

Makoto turned her head in embarrassment, even with how  _ delicately _ he had put it. And just as he had promised, the pain subsided, her eyes teary in the aftermath. She ran her fingers along his face, painting out his features in the dark to know that he was there. When she reached for his lips, and pressed around for his sharp fangs, she knew she wasn’t dreaming. 

 

“How long will this happen for?” she asked quietly, afraid of his answer.

 

“It’s not unbearable, is it?” he asked, avoiding her question.

 

“... No.”

 

“It’s simply the trade off if we are to continue making love. And I don’t intend to stop,” he murmured. 

 

“I-it still hurts,” she sobbed, knowing very well that nothing could be done.

 

“Do you wish to turn?” he asked.

 

“W-what? No… I haven’t thought about it much at all,” she replied. 

 

He grew quiet, knowing that if she were to become his fully, turning into a vampire herself would cease the flashes of pain after every time. For some reason, he couldn’t find it in his heart to tell her, afraid that he would be influencing her decision. Akechi wanted her to be his - to consume her, and possess her for all of eternity - though her body writhing that night was, yet again, another reminder that she was only human, built not to endure his wrath. 

 

He leaned down to kiss her, fingers gentle as he traced the two bite marks on her neck, running it along the developing scab. In the darkness, he could see that she had turned pale, weak and not used to his ministrations. To ease her pain, he ran his fingers over her eyelids, willing her to return to her slumber. 

 

\------

 

Makoto awoke to a recognizable pain in her abdomen - the indication that she would run her cycle as she did monthly. Her hand flew to her mouth as she remembered, and only a moment too late before Akechi came to the same realization that she was bleeding. 

 

She watched his eyes dilate under the few strokes of light in the bedroom, mouth watering at the scent of her blood coating her body. He could have behaved per usual had it not been the case, but the long years had neither prepared him for a girl entangled around him, practically begging to be devoured. It had been too long since he recalled these traditions of the female body. 

 

“You’re bleeding,” he voiced low and dangerous, indicating the obvious. 

 

She snuffed out a cry when he crawled between her legs in one quick motion and planted himself right at her core, lifting up the length of her nightgown and licked at the spot of blood on her underwear. Makoto wasn’t drenched in liquid, a mere droplets of blood had stained her underwear, but the act itself proved too bizarre and taboo for her even as she cried out in confused arousal. 

 

“N-no, please,” she whined, unprepared for such an early rouse, “Not there.”

 

“You’re mine, remember?” he growled.

 

His fingers digged into her thighs, growling lightly at the arousal of her scent. Akechi teetered between resisting and claiming her in wild abandon, dangerously close to the latter. The thin cloth that laid between him and the well of her blood proved to be too much, and his fangs tore through the fabric easily like the skinning an animal. 

 

His tongue entered her folds, and he was gone - consumed by bloodlust and his own desire to possess. He reached underneath her, pulling her by her hips so that he could devour her properly. The sensation proved to be too much even having recovered from the night prior. Makoto whimpered as he sucked hard at her core, drinking up what little blood she could provide having only started a few moments before. Even in her resistance and denial of the taboo act, she found herself gripping at his honey brown hair, a sign that she found it clearly irresistible. 

 

She arched her back into his mouth instinctively, no longer able to continue denying her own pleasure. The thought that he was so experienced and good at pleasing her entered her mind for a brief moment, placating her thoughts darkly that he must’ve had so many lovers in between before he finally found her. 

 

She snapped out of her jealousy when he was finished, ignoring her plea for more when he pulled away. He wiped at his mouth, licking whatever remnants were on his lips and crawled up her body once more. Makoto freaked when he tried to kiss her, confused and hurt by her rejection. 

 

“Why do you turn away from me?” he asked sadly.

 

“It’s… it’s unclean,” she muttered.

 

“You don’t wish to taste your own blood?” he continued his line of confused questioning.

 

Makoto was half-appalled at his lack of recognition, and nodded to avoid the topic. He kissed where he bit her the night before, reminiscing longingly at the memory having only tasted her briefly. 

 

“I’ll need more soon,” he said, breath hitching for a brief moment when he felt her pulse against his lips. 

 

“I-I thought that was enough-”

 

“It’ll never be enough, my love,” he told her, “I’ll never get enough of you.”

 

Makoto blushed at his statement, hiding her face even though he had buried himself into the crook of her neck. She could no longer deny her resistance to his words when he talked so openly and honestly about his desire for her. His hands roamed her body, feeling the fabric of the silk he cared very little for in contrast to the warmth fever of her soft skin. The press of something hard and throbbing against her abdomen made her jump in surprise. It had only been recently that she was reminded of both his physical and liquid arousal. 

 

She yelped when he turned her over to her side, yanking down the back of her gown to display her neck. Against the curve of her rear and with full access to the veins on both the side and back of her neck, Akechi breathed in the smell of blood that teased him beneath her skin. 

 

“You asked me once before if I wanted to taste you. I don’t believe I ever graced you with my answer,” he murmured against her skin, eyes rolling into the back of his skull as he felt her heartbeats quicken. 

 

Makoto moaned when he slipped the rest of her nightgown up to sit at her waist - surprised he hadn’t torn the entire dress off by now. Perhaps he’d learn to respect her wishes in order to buy her happiness. Nonetheless, he still never asked for permission when it came to personal space - perhaps that was a testament to how lovers should be, she thought. With each dent of his fingertips in her skin, she burned him in return, showing him how much she ached for him silently. He was rough with his hands on her, knowing not what to do when she’d come to him willingly for the first time. He turned from being parched for centuries unending to find an unknown oasis. He’d drink to his heart’s content. 

 

“Will you allow me to show you once more?” he asked cryptically.

“Once more…?” she asked breathily.

 

“My endless desire for you,” he reminded her, “In return for another taste.”

 

“Another…” she winced in memory, when she felt the curve of his fangs along her spine. 

 

Akechi found patience once more as he waited for her approval - relishing in the burn of her skin against his own and the throb of his cock along her rear. Who would’ve pegged him as a masochist when it came to her? Although she’d certainly deny the fact that he’d placate her own needs before his for once wasn’t necessarily masochistic. He savored the heave of her body in tandem with his touches, a small reminder that he was waiting and slowly falling victim with each passing second to his primal urges. 

 

“Please, my love,” he begged, “I’m dying.”

 

“No you’re not!” she scoffed, breaking away for a moment when she felt him grin against the curve of her back. 

 

“Is that a yes?” he asked once more, pressing his lips to the back of her neck, and then again against the side - ecstatic when he felt her lull into his kisses.

 

“Ngh…”

 

She was distracted - he’d found her sweet spot along the side of her neck, kissing gently as he seduced her with his touches. Had the disguise of blood not distracted him, he might have sank his fingers between her folds and found her drenched from his display of affections. 

 

“It’s a simple word, my dear,” he cooed. 

 

“H-hush.”

 

“Still deciding? Let me convince you in the meantime.”

 

Akechi cared very little for her concern for blood, and nudged his cock right against the entrance. He heard her gasp at the tantalizing motion, one hand gripping into the silk sheets on the bed as she prepared herself for his entrance. Makoto heard him chuckle lowly, realizing he wasn’t going to give her what she ached for without a proper response. Even in her lust, she found that her pride still overcame it by a hair or two. It was only when he slipped his free hand under the side of her body and caressed the curve of her breast did she finally start to feel her willpower splinter. The pads of his fingers found her nipple, rolling it as he palmed the fullness of her breast. Makoto couldn’t pinpoint what the sensation was, but she choked out a cry for more, throat raw and tingly for some strange reason.

 

“What’s that?” he teased, pulling away slightly from her breast.

 

Her hand flew to hold him in place, letting out the smallest whine for his touch. 

 

“Yes,” she said quickly, “Yes, yes… anything. Anything you want, Goro...”

 

Makoto blushed when he muttered the words “good girl,” pouting at the fact that she was most definitely not what he had just described. He was glad she responded favorably - a moment longer and he might have just bit the bullet and fucked her without permission. His cock entered her with ease, coated by her wetness. 

 

“Ohhhh-!” 

 

She’d given him her virginity the night before, but there was still the early tension and slight pain from that time. The feeling left soon when he returned to his ministrations on her breast and his tongue against the side of her neck’s pulse. He careened himself closer - if he could’ve seen his eyes, he’d know they were a deep red in response to the quickening thumps of her heart, blood tantalizing right below the surface of that delicate flesh. All at once, Makoto couldn’t handle the sensation of being  _ made love to _ and all the expert touches of her lover behind her. Akechi listened closely to the rhythm of her moans, her begging for more, and when the denial of his thirst proved to be too much and too long, he sank his teeth into her neck. 

 

“Oh, god!” she cried out, pain fighting with pleasure. 

 

Akechi’s eyes rolled back, drinking in the taste of her, scared he wouldn’t be able to stop. He couldn’t with all the noise Makoto made, egging him to continue and not stop. There was no way he could determine which was which, lost in his own reverie and pleasure all throughout his body. Only when her moans turned low and came close to that of a cry, did he attempt to pull away - she was close. 

 

“I’m close,” she moaned lowly, “W-what are you doing to me…”

 

He picked up the pace of his thrusts, and being within the proximity of his own orgasm, he bit down on her hard, surely tearing more skin that needed. Makoto yelped in obvious pain, but he continued, sucking faster and harder now. Akechi was so incredibly close, cock throbbing in anticipation. And for the first time ever, something strange happened.

 

“Ngh, Makoto,” he groaned, his own pride shattering as he vocalized his pleasure.

 

She felt dizzy and lightheaded at the way he moaned out her name, the rumble in his throat reverberated back against her neck and throughout her own body - enough to force out her orgasm early. She’d never experienced anything like it even in the night before. 

 

“Hnn… again,” she whined.

 

“Makoto…” he whispered, punctuating her name into his being, “You’re mine. All mine. Do you understand?”

 

“Yessss,” she hissed in a frenzy, coming finally on his shaft. 

 

His fangs released her neck, and only in hindsight of unrivaled strength did he realize how much of her blood he drank. Coupled with the few ounces the night before - it was too much. Makoto didn’t move, eyes closed to signify that she’d passed out. 

 

“Makoto?” he asked worriedly. 

 

She didn’t respond, blood seeping down the side of her neck and onto the sheets.

 

\------

 

The next time Makoto woke, she was greeted with a pair of heavy arms around her, Akechi’s voice trembling in obvious fear. 

 

“W-what happened?” she asked, feeling off and body strange.

 

“You passed out,” he frowned, sighing in relief, “I did everything I could to wake you.”

 

“I feel strange.”

 

Akechi didn’t response, knowing very well what he did to bring her back. He watched her blink up at him, red eyes confused for a moment. 

 

“How long…?”

 

“A few hours,” he told her, “Not long. Are you hungry?”

 

“... Ravenous, actually,” she admitted, not knowing where her hunger was coming from all of a sudden.

 

He presented her with the cooked meat of the rabbit on one plate, and a small bowl of its drained blood in the other. Eyeing her carefully, he placed the tray on her lap after sitting her up. Makoto took one look at the meat, and dove straight for the bowl of blood, drinking it in loud gulps as if it were water. Akechi bit his lip as he watched, not knowing if he was waiting for her to realize or to assume that everything was still normal.

 

“Is there more?” she asked, the blood sliding down the side of her mouth.

 

He leaned in to kiss her, licking the leftover blood from her lips.

 

“There can be,” he told her slowly.

 

She nodded, waiting for more. Akechi, afraid of angering his beloved, presented her with the weeks of blood she’d saved for him. Makoto plowed through all of it, brain not properly syncing up with the fact that she was slowly turning with each ounce that she consumed. 

 

“I think that’s enough,” he muttered quietly.

 

“I want more,” she whined. 

 

“Later, my love,” he hushed her. 

 

She pouted for a moment, eyes glowing brightly as she watched him hungrily. 

 

“Goro,” she started innocently, “Am I turning?”

 

He didn’t have the heart to tell her, nor did he have the guts to lie to her. He sat down on the bed, his own burgundy eyes meeting hers in a long stare.

 

“I was afraid I would lose you,” he finally said quietly. 

 

Makoto used her newfound strength to throw him against the wall by the bed. Luckily for him, he was stronger thanks to the human blood he’d consumed off her. Akechi stood easily, wincing.

 

“I-I’m not human,” she cried in realization, pinning him up against the wall.

 

“Forgive me,” he murmured, “I found you fading.”

 

“This is all because you drank too much of my blood!” 

 

“I can reverse it,” he admitted, “But you need to be weaned off of any blood. Any more than what you had drank just now and you would’ve been turned.”

 

She gasped in horror, her mind finally in tact with what was happening. She nodded in agreement, fully intending on holding onto her humanity. Makoto instinctively felt her abdomen.

 

“You… stopped my cycle?” she asked.

 

“It’s been reset,” he told her, “It’ll equalize once we get you through this.”

 

“And… what is this?”

 

“You won’t turn if you don’t have enough blood to satiate you. Although,” he murmured slowly, “I’m afraid you’ll be insatiable.” 

 

Makoto admitted that she already was - her desire for the vampire before her was proving almost painful with each passing moment that she was ignoring her primal needs. 

 

“I’m going to have to keep you here for a few days,” he explained, “Do you understand? No leaving.”

 

She nodded reluctantly. 

 

“That means… no seeing me either,” he continued slowly.

 

“W-what? Why?” she asked.

 

“You need vampire blood to turn. Your body knows that,” he said softly.

 

“No…” she whined, almost as if intending to turn. 

 

“It’s a few days,” he reassured her, kissing her forehead and then softly on the lips, “I’m sorry.”

 

“Goro,” she moaned, pressing her body against his briefly to signify that she wanted him.

 

She was already falling victim to those urges, and he was in no place to deny her what she wanted, breath hitching as she ran her hands up his chest. 

 

“Just turn me now,” she begged, “I want this.”

 

“You’re not in the right state of mind,” he sighed, “I have to go now, my love. Only for a few days.”

 

He found it painful to pull her off of him, the curve of her hips around his hands for a second too long was already testing his own desires. Akechi slipped through the door of his room and locked her in from the outside. The softest whimper escaped through the heavy sound of wood, and he so desperately hoped that he wouldn’t fall victim to her siren call for the next few agonizing days.

 

\------

 

It’d been two days before Akechi attempted to check on her, his eyes weary from worry and anxiety. As if she had sensed him near, he felt himself magnetize to the other side of the door, the pheromones of the girl starting to normalize back to that of a human drew him in to fend off his own urges. 

 

“Makoto…”

 

He heard the sound of her footsteps approaching the door before they stopped. 

 

“Goro?”

 

“Are you all right?” he asked.

 

“I seem fine,” she said from the other side.

 

She sounded as she said, and Akechi allowed himself to believe it was okay to see her again. Makoto heard the click of the key from the other side, eyes dilated, and immediately pulled the door open. Only in hindsight did Akechi realize that in order to fight through her appetite, humans in transition would do absolutely  _ anything _ in order get just a taste.

 

“Gorooo,” she whined when she pulled him in, pressing her lips to his in fervor.

 

“Mako-”

 

“Hnnn I missed you. Why were you gone for so long? Why don’t you want me?” she asked breathily.

 

She was the very definition of insatiable, eyes twinkling seductively as she led him to the edge of the bed. She wasted no time before straddling him, locking him in place and kissing him fervently. He muttered her name in between her hungry kisses, unable to resist both her and his own desires.

 

“We can’t,” he reminded her.

 

Makoto ignored him, trailing down his body to rip at the buttons of his shirt. Her strength in isolation grew tenfold, her hunger beyond levels of starvation she’d ever known, and she wanted nothing more than to drink the blood of her beloved beneath her. 

 

“We’re not doing this,” he told her firmly, “I can’t make you turn.”

 

“But I want to,” she said huskily, “Why won’t you give me what I want?”

 

“You need only ask and I’d give you the world on a silver platter,” he sighed, “But I know you don’t want this-”

 

“I do. I want forever,” she reminded him.

 

He couldn’t tell if she was serious when her tongue was licking the length of his neck. She pressed his hand to her beating heart, a testament that she was still here and willing to be with him, a parallel to their first night together. Akechi was slowly ripping at the seams, hearing her cry out in need mixed with his neglect for his own desires was proving to be a dangerous situation. She held him down with her hands cupping his face, her breath trailing down his jaw. How the tables have turned. Even two days proved to be its own eternity for the both of them when they weren’t in the presence of one another.

 

“A few more days,” he promised her, “Just to make sure.”

 

“Nooooo-”

 

She didn’t know why he was choosing to turn away now. Didn’t he propose the idea initially anyways? Why did he encounter doubt when it was her idea this time around? 

 

“Were there others?” she asked sadly.

 

“What?” 

 

“There were others before me,” she said softly, “Is that… why?”

 

“Never.”

 

Makoto grimaced, and pushed off of him. Akechi grabbed hold of her waist to hold her still as she looked away from him.

 

“Why do you doubt me?” he asked, hurt.

 

She hid her face in shame, unbudging even as he attempted to pull at her arms. 

 

“I just… want you so badly,” she admitted shyly. 

 

“Makoto, please. Don’t use my own words against me,” he groaned.

 

“It’s true,” she whined, “You’ve locked me here and I… I feel like I’m going crazy.”

 

Akechi grew indignant, almost angry that she’d think for a moment that he didn’t want her. Finally, her arms came down to reveal a face stained in fresh tears. 

 

“Makoto… I’ve hurt you,” he noted sadly.

 

“Yes! Yes, you have,” she sobbed, “First you wanted me to turn, and then… you’re having second thoughts about spending forever with me-”

 

“There’s not an ounce of truth in that,” he said in disgust, “I want nothing but.”

 

“Then why… Why did you change your mind so suddenly?”

 

He knew the truth. He’d been waiting practically forever for her, and only within the last few weeks had she began to warm up to him. Her feelings grew overnight, no match or rival to the centuries of loneliness that he had come to terms with. The thoughts of her growing tired of him were ones that plagued him even when he resorted to feeding her his own blood to sustain her after their latest encounter. When he looked away, Makoto felt troubled and hurt. She pushed his face back towards her so that he could face her.

 

“Tell me,” she pleaded.

 

“Do you know how long I waited for you? Even knowing and  _ accepting _ that you were gone forever?” he asked wearily, “Five hundred and sixty seven years.”

 

Makoto blinked at the figure, astounded at the mere length of a year in human time. 

 

“Why would I rob you of the amount of time you have left on this hell of an earth? For my  _ own _ selfishness?” he asked incredulously, turning away from her.

 

He lifted her up with ease and sauntered to the window - he couldn’t stand to be near her if she’d simply leave at her own discretion - an eternity without her wouldn’t be worth living now that he knew he had a second chance to love her for the rest of forever. Makoto could sense his pain, and followed him to the window. She wrapped her arms around his stomach gently, sighing quietly when she pressed her head against his back. In her heart, she knew it’d take the same amount of years to convince him that she would stay. He stayed unmoving, feeling a pang of loneliness just from the thought of her disappearing. 

 

“I want to stay,” she said quietly, “I don’t know how long it’d take to convince you but I… I do want to.”

 

“You want to?” he asked, repeating her own words back to her.

 

Makoto spread her arms in front of him, showing him the purity ring on her left hand. He frowned when he saw it, wondering if he’d simply reimagined that it was one he had once presented to her several lifetimes ago. She let him stare at it for a moment longer before removing it from her finger - she held it out to him, intending for him to take it. 

 

Akechi turned to look at her, confused after receiving it mechanically. 

 

“I want you to have it. My chastity ring. It belongs to you after all.”

 

“Makoto…”

 

“I made a promise,” she explained, “I’m giving you that promise now. Until death do us apart.”

 

Akechi stared at the ring in his hand, too small to even fit on his pinky if he tried probably. It was cheap - the church couldn’t afford anything - and he frowned, knowing it paled in comparison to the ring he had slipped onto her finger so many moons ago. 

 

“A promise,” he said slowly. 

 

“Mhmm. Yes.” 

 

Makoto thought of the loneliness he felt, feeling that same isolation not too long ago. It’d take some time for her to come to terms for it and tell him of her own adversity in hopes that he wouldn’t hunt for the heads that hurt her. But they had forever. At least, she hoped they did. 

 

He put the ring back on her finger, and intertwined his hand with hers. She gave him a confused and almost-hurt look. 

 

“Only until you turn,” he explained, “And then I’ll give you a proper ceremony like I should have so many years ago.” 

 

“Then… you mean-”

 

He nodded, holding her head in his hands, and kissed her sweetly. 

 

“Goro,” she said shakily, processing her emotions, “I want you.”

 

“You do?” 

 

She pressed her cheek against his palm, looking up at him in anticipation. 

 

“You’ll have to say the words,” he smirked, index finger swiping the bottom of her lip.

 

“Please,” she said in a bare whisper. 

 

He kissed her once more before leading her back into bed. Makoto began to sit when he turned her over quickly, face into the silk sheets. His kisses turned rough, and then into playful bites and sucks along her spine. He felt her squirm underneath, doing nothing but arousing him further. 

 

“The other words,” he murmured, tugging off her dress.

 

Makoto whimpered, not knowing what he meant. Akechi continued teasing her in the meantime, slipping out of the shirt she’d mean to tear off of him earlier. 

 

“I want you to make love to me,” she tried. 

 

“Hmm. Those are lovely too, but not what I had in mind, my dear,” he said in amusement, “Try once more before I punish you.”

 

“Nngh…” she didn’t want to be punished. 

 

She was silent for much longer than he expected and he turned her back over to wait for her response.

 

“Cat got your tongue?” he teased.

 

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Makoto whined softly. 

 

He kissed down her body, pressing his lips over her taut nipple. 

 

“Ngh, more.”

 

“Say it,” he said, heart yearning for those words. 

 

Makoto’s breath hitched, feeling his warmth on her body again. She murmured something quiet to herself, and he stopped.

 

“What was that?” 

 

“I love you,” she said shyly, hiding behind her hands. 

 

He leaned forward, kissing her hand. 

 

“I love you too,” he said in reply. 

 

He pulled her up by the waist and propped her up on his lap. After one longing glance, he made his descent. 

 

“Forever,” he told her, baring his fangs.

 

“Forever,” she agreed, closing her eyes.

 

There was blood - Makoto sighed as he penetrated her neck once more, tears sliding down her cheek as she latched onto her lover close. He stopped when he felt her arms fall, head lulling once more into his arms. Panic overcame his body until life breathed back into Makoto. Akechi watched her move in his arms, lids fluttering a moment before opening. Glowing red eyes greeted him and her lips upturned into a curl. 

  
  



	4. fall for your type

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> my vulnerability, watching you consume me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TigerRaiken is killing me. 
> 
> Both Akira and Akechi are smitten with Makoto, but there's clearly one she favors.

The moment Makoto discovered the Phantom Thieves and confirmed their existence early in June, her life took a very strange turn. For one, she’d never been noticed by other boys in school and the sudden influx of just one would have been self-evident enough to be a mistake. The reason it was particularly strange was because it was  _ two _ . Akira chased after her when she walked away, clearly proud and happy with herself for her discovery. 

 

Luckily for her, Akira had grabbed her arm in the busy intersection of Sunset Bridge - her public image untarnished by that of a delinquent interacting with her. 

 

“What are you doing?!” she cried. 

 

She was appalled that he’d even think to touch her having hardly known her. He seemed to have the guts for it though, and it surprised her. 

 

“About the Phantom Thieves,” he ignored her remark, “We’re not done.”

 

“Find out about Kaneshiro Junya and then we’ll talk,” she said plainly, “That’s all I’m giving you to work with.”

 

“I know, I know. It’s just, don’t you think you should be a little more participatory with us? You’re the only one who holds intel on him thus far, we have very little to work with other than his name. You’d really throw us into the lion’s den like that?” Akira pleaded.

 

“I’m doing just that,” she responded coldly, clearly unhappy with being questioned about her terms and conditions.

 

“We’re students just like you,” he reminded her.

 

She thought for a moment about his comment, looking at the determined look in the new transfer’s face. Makoto wasn’t one to doubt his appearance looked hardly  _ delinquent-like _ but when she stared too long, she saw his lips pulled taut into a smirk.  _ Nevermind, he’s a delinquent all right.  _

 

“And?” she asked, obviously getting his drift. 

 

“Is it really fair that you toss aside students to do your dirty work for you just so you have the approval of the adults that you so clearly hate?” he questioned her.

 

“I don’t hate them,” she lied, “They’re necessary.”

 

Lies.

 

“What I’m suggesting is that with your cooperation, we might get this done a little quicker and we’d bring justice to Kaneshiro. Less pain on both sides, and that’s less suffering for his victims,” he convinced.

 

“I see your point,” Makoto couldn’t deny that, “What would you have me do? Sounds like you want a hint.”

 

“I do.”

 

She was surprised and ever-so-slightly impressed that his pride wasn’t on the line. He asked for her help so willingly,  _ just as those students had _ . Makoto grimaced, glancing around the hollowness that was Shibuya station. She noted that his friends had left without him.

 

“I’m not treating you as students. You’re the  _ Phantom Thieves _ ,” she said the last part in a whisper.

 

“Are we not one in the same, you and us?” Akira prodded.

 

“I’m tired of your questions,” she sneered, “I’ll help but not here.”

 

Akira seemed content with that much. 

 

“Where?” 

 

Makoto thought about giving him her number for a moment, remembering that Sae had given her a lesson on how traceable texts were when it came to police investigation.

 

“Let’s do it in the student council room,” she suggested, “Tomorrow. After school.”

 

Akira nodded and released her grip on her arm. Makoto hadn’t even realized he was still holding onto her. She gave him one more glance before strutting off in the opposite direction as him. Somehow, her job got a little bit harder she felt like.  

 

Unbeknownst to the both of them, they were being watched.

 

\------

 

That night, for whatever reason, Makoto couldn’t seem to focus at cram school. She thought about the intel that Akira clearly knew she had and soon realized that all she really had to work with was things that she could do with her power. She could gain access into Kaneshiro’s hangout easily, setting up the guise as the student council president trying to look for work on the side. The Phantom Thieves were her only hope to follow up if things went wrong - she couldn’t simply drag them into it her first attempt or they’d all be royally screwed. 

 

The thoughts clearly bothered her - her practice scores that night were much lower than they usually were, knocking her off the peg of the usual first place. She grimaced when she sat in 7th, Akechi Goro now in first. Makoto hadn’t realized it, but she’d been staring straight at the wall for a solid few minutes, the white of the paper blending into the wall. 

 

“Staring at your scores won’t change them,” a cheery voice piped up behind her.

 

Makoto closed her eyes briefly, readjusting her eyes, and snapping back to reality. It was late, her eyes were hurting, and of all people, Akechi Goro had to be the one to catch her off guard.

 

“What do you want?” she asked without looking at the detective prince.

 

_ Clearly to rub it in _ . 

 

“You seem bothered,” he continued.

 

“Isn’t it obvious why I am?” she asked, bothered by her scores, but even more so about the Phantom Thieves. 

 

It’d be best for her if Akechi stayed out of the know - out of her way, and as far away from the Phantom Thieves as possible.

 

“Something’s on your mind,” he noted, “It’s not just these scores. After all, you were first place for the last few nights. There’s no reason you scored so poorly without something on your mind.”

 

Makoto was feeling particularly self-deprecatory that night.

 

“Are you trying to be my therapist or something now?” she sneered - she’d love to have just said  _ fuck off _ \- but that’s not in good girls’ vocabulary. 

 

“Just making an observation. That is my job, after all,” he continued, “93. It’s not bad at all.”

 

  1. _Niijima Makoto._



 

  1. _Akechi Goro._



 

So on and so forth, it used to be for weeks on end. He’d arrive late, and that was the only reason he was docked the singular point. Makoto had no doubt he would’ve been in first place alongside her if he hadn’t so  _ poignantly  _ arrived late everyday. 

 

“Not perfect,” she commented.

 

“Not something to beat yourself up about,” he shrugged, “You want to be buried with your high school scores? Don’t try to surprise me.”

 

Makoto pivoted to face the smartass, red eyes burning with enough stress and rage to just go ahead and slap him across the face. Unfortunately for her, she cared just a hair too much about setting an example and what her peers thought of her. If Akechi didn’t have so much notoriety for being the detective prince, perhaps there wouldn’t be so many subtle glances and eyes watching the both of them interact. It was as if they were the two starring roles on stage - everyone waiting for one of them to fuck up. 

 

It was different from her interaction earlier that day with Akira.

 

It was almost 10pm, and even in the harsh, soul-sucking white light, Akechi was perfect - down to every single strand of hair and wide-awake mahogany eyes, he was perfect. Makoto couldn’t say the same for herself, slowly ripping at the seams from lack of sleep and after school duties. She couldn’t find it in her to face him right now and simply left. 

 

_ Please, please, please don’t follow me _ .  _ I’ve had enough today. _

 

It was the first time she had interacted with Akechi in length, and she was already  _ so _ exhausted. Something didn’t sit right with her as she walked in the humid June evening to the train station. Kurusu Akira and Akechi Goro both in one day proved too much for her to handle. 

 

\------

 

Upon her agreement with Akira to meet the following day in the student council room, Makoto felt an uneasiness settle at the pit of her stomach as she waited for him. The gazes from the other Phantom Thieves were clear to her-

 

_ Reaping in our hard work just so you can earn the approval of those shitty adults? You make me sick. _ __  
  


_ You’re useless to us.  _

 

_ What a shame - and from the student council president too _ .

 

They weren’t real things that were voiced, but Makoto knew they felt that way. Why wouldn’t they? She thought the same about herself. She saw Akira approaching and she felt her body move instinctively. He was getting closer and that’s when she decided she’d make a run for it. The last thing she saw was the confusion on his face, and for a brief moment, she wished that he went after her. 

 

She lost herself in the crowd, weaving in between the salarymen and overly-done-up women. Within a few stops, she was in the heart of Shinjuku. Within a few blocks, she was in the seedy part - a poor lamb lost in the crowd of hungry wolves. Makoto did well to the avoid the gazes of the groups of men gathered in the dark of the alleys as she walked along the street. Tall girls in heels and short skirts howled in laughter as she walked by them - unsurprising if they weren’t far from her age. She felt like she couldn’t breathe, and she ran into the first person alone that might have given her a clue as to where to find Kaneshiro Junya.

 

“Hi. I’m looking for Kaneshiro Junya.”

 

_ Oh my god, I’m an idiot _ .

 

The guy looked at her as if she’d grown a second head, puffed up like a blowfish and held in his laughter. 

 

“I think you can do better than that,” he whistled.

 

“Can you take me to him or not?” she asked, cocking a brow at his weird response.

 

“If you’re really trying to make money, I know of something better-suited for you,” he said lowly, grinning as he eyed her up and down.

 

“It’s not a matter of money. I’m a… a client of his,” she lied, uncomfortable under his gaze. 

 

“Client, eh? What’s a prim and proper gal like you doing as his Junya’s client?” the guy continued, “Oh, I see…  _ Client. _ ” 

 

“What?” 

 

“All right, little lady, I get your drift. Come with me. Daddy can take you to Junya all right,” he chuckled.

 

Makoto’s eyes widened, albeit confused by his choice in vernacular. That was easy enough. There was nothing notable about the man, no defining features of any kind, but Makoto believed he knew what he was doing. She began to step foot into the alley he was leading her when a hand grabbed hold of her wrist. 

 

Before she knew it, she was running for dear life out of the street in Shinjuku. The lack of sleep caught up to her finally, and she couldn’t tell who was dragging her to hell most likely. The disarray of bright lights and the speed of the person ahead of her made her dizzy, finally snapping her back to reality when she was slammed against a concrete wall.

 

“Are you out of your mind?” the voice asked venomously.

 

Makoto felt her vision catch up to her finally and begin to focus on the person before her. The many nights she’d spend up late studying under the bright lamp hadn’t quite prepared her for Shinjuku. 

 

“Niijima, you’ve got to be kidding me,” the voice belonging to that of pleasant boy, Akechi Goro oozed in disbelief.

 

“Akechi...kun?” 

 

“What are you doing?” he asked her plainly, expecting nothing but the truth.

 

“There’s… There’s been complaints from the other students,” she said plainly.

 

“About  _ Shinjuku _ ? You thought you would investigate other students’ business just because they asked you to?”

 

“They didn’t ask me to I-!”

 

She almost gave herself away. She knew she was transparent as can be under the hard press of Akechi’s hands on her shoulders. She was done for. 

 

“What are you doing here, Akechi?” she sighed tiredly, “Did you follow me?”

 

“Yes, I followed you,” he said sarcastically, “You really were about to walk into an alley with some stranger you had just met that promised you everything you wanted in the world? You’re easier than I thought you were.”

 

“... I see. You came here to look down on me, I get it,” she budged out of his grip.

 

“No-”

 

“Let go of me,” she said lowly.

 

Akechi listened to her dangerous shift in tone, releasing her immediately. Her frame was so small, he hadn’t realized in his anger and exasperation he’d literally lifted her off the ground a few inches. Makoto hid her face in her hands, tired and finally realizing what she had almost gotten herself into.

 

“That man didn’t know Kaneshiro, did he?” she asked nobody in particular.

 

“... Kaneshiro?” Akechi inquired, hearing about the name for the first time.

 

“I have to go,” she replied, “Pretend this never happened.” 

 

Akechi was baffled at how quickly she was unraveling. He pondered for a moment if she’d rush right back into the wolves’ den, but when she made a right turn out of the street, he knew she had enough common sense to just head on home. The next line of thought was to gauge what kind of person he was to follow a girl to Shinjuku to ensure her safety. He should’ve just let her - sometimes it was better not to know. 

 

But there was one thing for certain, he soon realized - he couldn’t just pretend like it never happened. He couldn’t just leave her be, and he  _ couldn’t _ stop thinking about her. Akechi followed after her, fully intending to take the train the opposite way home, tuck himself in bed, and go promptly to sleep. Instead, he stuck around several meters away from her in the train station - enough to go unnoticed - and watched his own train come and go. Makoto stood wearily, snapping out of her thoughts when the conductor announced over the intercom the next stop. She got onto the train, and Akechi hoped with every fiber of his being that she knew how to get home. Something was not quite right with her. 

 

Unbeknownst to the both of them, they were being watched. 

 

\------

 

“You didn’t show up,” Akira noted the next day.

 

He knew she saw him, and in the midst of her panic, dodged him completely and left. 

 

“Yeah,” she agreed with his side of the story, “Cold feet, I guess. I had a lot to do and well…”   
  


“You’re not a very good liar,” he smirked.

 

“I know,” she sighed, “To tell you the truth, I went looking for this ‘intel’ I supposedly already had.”

 

“And?” he pressed.

 

She was surprised he wasn’t hounding her on not having the information in the first place. He was asking how the search went.

 

“I didn’t find any. Sorry. I guess, I was useless in the end, you know? Just like you all were saying,” she said wearily.

 

“Saying? When did we say that?” he asked.

 

“Oh... Nevermind. A-anyways, I went to Shinjuku and found nothing. Surprise, surprise,” she said sullenly, “I wasn’t much help in the end.”   
  


“You still can be,” he replied nonchalantly, “We have Kaneshiro’s name, and we know his line of work. It can’t be that hard to piece it if we’re working together.”

 

“I suppose,” she said, doubt clouding her mind. 

 

“Why don’t we try again tomorrow?” he suggested, “You seem like you could use some rest.”

 

“What makes you say that?” she asked confused.

 

“You’ve been yawning non-stop,” he commented, smiling softly.

 

“... I am pretty tired,” she agreed, “My resolve hasn’t changed.”

 

“I don’t doubt that.”

 

“You’re very different,” Makoto finally noticed, “Not a delinquent at all, I gather.”

 

“I’m not very good at pretending to be something I’m not,” he smiled all-knowing.

 

Makoto nodded, taking his words into consideration in her usual thinking pose. Akira chuckled lowly to himself as he watched her contemplate what he had just said. 

 

“I’ll take my leave,” he said finally, “Maybe… Tomorrow we can go to a cafe or something instead to meet up.”

 

“Hmm… I kinda like the student council room, though,” Makoto frowned, “I mean, I guess it’s not the worst idea.”

 

Akira grimaced at her dodge in accepting his offer to go on a date. Nonetheless, she agreed and he was happy about it. He got what he wanted in the end. He planned to win her fair and square after all, with tiny displays of affection and charm. Akira realized halfway home that he hadn’t given her the address of the cafe to meet at. 

 

Makoto had walked off, after he attempted to bid her goodbye, lost in thought as she made her way to the train station to get to cram school on time. 

 

\------

 

The universe was giving her a sign, she thought. Class was cancelled for the first time in history, likely in all of Japan’s history. Makoto was so caught off guard, she attempted to peek into the locked classroom to ensure it wasn’t just some prank. She looked at the paper taped to the window, first the front and then the back, then back to the front. She analyzed the font, the word choice, the syntax - there’s bound to be an error in there somewhere to signify that it was a joke. She glanced at her phone, squinting at the time - did Japan adopt daylight savings? Did someone change the date on her phone? She was losing it. 

 

“You saw it too?” 

 

Makoto jumped at the voice - having heard it too often for her liking. She’d gone from zero interaction with the snarky detective to being able to count their encounters all on one hand in the span of the last week. Her mouth seemed to drop when she realized she wasn’t dreaming. 

 

“A-Akechi!”

 

“You haven’t been sleeping, have you?” he asked her casually.

 

“How long were you watching me?!” she asked, realizing now she looked actually crazy for the last ten minutes staring at a piece of paper for a hint of any kind. 

 

“Long enough,” he smirked, “Come on. Let’s leave. I should’ve left 20 minutes ago along with the other students when it was obvious class was cancelled.”

 

“... You stuck around,” she commented.

 

“You noticed,” he said sarcastically.

 

Makoto’s brows furrowed at his reply, caught in her own confusion. She didn’t know it, but he stuck around in case a certain someone might have wandered in much later than she usually had. The worst case for him was if that certain someone hadn’t shown and had taken the train to Shinjuku once more looking for trouble.

 

“Shall we go?” he asked once more, reminding her that she was still a part of reality.

 

“No, thank you,” she replied.

 

Akechi couldn’t believe it - but he really could when it came to someone like Makoto. 

 

“... You want to stay here?” he asked incredulously.

 

“I-I- What if the teacher’s just… very late?” she proposed, perusing her phone quickly for any notifications of train delays or accidents.

 

There were none.

 

“You’re serious.”

 

“I am.”

 

For the second time that week, Makoto received notice that she might have grown a second head or something. It took a moment longer for Akechi to rerun through his line of thinking to ensure he didn’t propose anything beyond her comprehension. Instead of repeating himself, he decided to go along with whatever crazy plan she had.

 

“Fine. We’ll stay right here,” he said, smiling pleasantly.

 

“I don’t want you here,” she said plainly.

 

“That’s too bad for you because I want to be here,” he shot back.

 

“You said you should’ve left 20 minutes ago!” she cried indignantly.

 

“You’re breaking my heart,” he said sardonically, “You really want me to go so you can just stand here for the next four hours without interruption?”

 

“Why are you painting me out to be crazy?” she asked angrily.

 

“I don’t need to do that when you’re doing it perfectly fine yourself,” he said in amusement.

 

She muttered something to herself, turning away from him to attempt to turn the handle to the door. Makoto didn’t know why she hadn’t tried to do that the first time around. 

 

“Hiding in that room won’t keep me from following you,” he breathed dangerously close to her ear.

 

Makoto yelped in tandem with her surprise and the door unlocking - shocking the both of them when she tumbled forward into the dark room. Only when she sank to the floor did she finally realize she was going insane with all the pressure around her. Hiding her face in her hands, she finally felt the tears well up. She heard the door close and she didn’t even bother to try and shut the annoying detective out anymore. He’d already seen her at her lowest point the other night - what’s another display of her wounded pride and public image? Akechi watched her quietly, struggling with hiding herself from him and struggling to face herself. He set his case down quietly, pulling out one of the chairs to assert their distance. 

 

“Why are you here?” she asked, “Do you get some sort of satisfaction pretending to care about me?” 

 

“I’m usually good at pretending,” he admitted, “Not as of late, though.” 

 

They weren’t as faithful or pretty as Akira’s words earlier, but for some reason, she sensed the honesty within Akechi for the first time. Makoto didn’t know if it was because she was confused, or maybe because she wanted to think for a second that it was his way of admitting that he cared about her, but she stood to face him. He relaxed a bit when he saw her expression change - she wasn’t planning to argue with him anymore. Akechi grew tense when she walked closer, heart pounding in anticipation for what would come next. He’d come to terms with the fact that he most definitely cared for her, obvious evidence littered in his unnoticed actions. The next was when he decided he had feelings for her, evidence in his hands magnetizing to those wide hips underneath that high-waisted skirt. 

 

Akechi could’ve sworn he was in love when she sank into his lap and crushed her lips into his own. The possibility that she returned those feelings suddenly became palpable given her actions. Makoto in that moment felt clear-headed for the first time that week. It had been a long week. 

 

The detective turned rough, gasping for more of her when he pulled her down to feel the ache in his pants, bucking into her body, desperate for her to know his intentions. To his surprise, Makoto moaned quietly, her fingers feeling for the buttons on his shirt. His gloved hands reached underneath her skirt, yanking relentlessly on the fabric of her tights once he felt the curve of her ass. She straddled him in his lap, kissing him hard and in desperation. 

 

“Tell me you won’t regret this,” he pleaded with her.

 

“I won’t,” she agreed. 

 

He tore through the buttons on her shirt with ease, his strength enough to reveal the white bra she wore underneath. He planted his face into her chest, sucking on the skin there as he worked to remove his gloves to toss them into the darkness. The noises she made told him that she wanted him, begging for him to touch her somewhere, anywhere,  _ everywhere _ . 

 

“Tell me you want me,” he begged, hoping so much that it was the truth.

 

“I do,” she whimpered in embarrassment, her torn pride in full display.

 

“Since when?” he prodded, fingers tentatively around the waistband of her panties. 

 

Makoto looked within herself, unsure. They crept up on her, that was for certain. He tore the fabric that kept her away from him when she didn’t answer, much to her dismay. She felt like she had been cornered, her hand flew to grip his throat in anger at what he had just done.

 

“Oh? Did I anger the student council president?” he cooed. 

 

The grip tightened, and he choked out a small laugh. She really did turn him on with all that untapped rage. Her free hand went to grab his wrist, hovering it away from touching her so freely. Akechi thought he could get away with being the snarky bastard that he was without consequence? Not with her. 

 

“Let’s try that again,” she grinned, “What did you call me?”

 

“Her Highness. Your Majesty. Which do you prefer?” he allured. 

 

She released his wrist, but kept her grip tight when she pulled his tie forward and planted her lips against his roughly. Akechi gasped at the motion, opening his mouth for her own satisfaction when he felt her reach down for his clothed-member for the first time. He hissed at her touch, unhappy with the amount of fabric between the two of them. Makoto granted his wish unknowingly when she undid the button to his pants and palmed him through his boxers next. Akechi moved his hand up the back of her shirt, in tandem with the other that held down her arm. 

 

“No more teasing,” he groaned. 

 

“Oh, but I’ve only just started,” she pouted. 

 

“Not here,” he reminded her. 

 

Makoto pulled out his erection with ease, as if she’d not only read about the act, but done it again and again. Akechi knew the latter not to be true, but,  _ oh _ , was she good. So good. She was colored surprised when he released her reluctantly to reach for the condom in one of his pockets. Tearing open the wrapper and tossing it elsewhere, he slid it down his shaft. 

 

“You weren’t planning to go home empty-handed, hm?” she snided, “And instead of some poor infatuated girl, you got me instead.”

 

He laughed lowly, wondering if he was supposed to be disappointed that it was her and not someone else. He’d only wanted her from beginning to end, but he’ll save that for another time. 

 

Makoto grabbed him by the base, and sought her entrance so that she could finally sink her dripping cunt down onto him. She was unaware, but a shadow was approaching from down the hall. She slid down onto him without hesitation, eliciting a moan from Akechi’s lips at her display of readiness. He gripped at whatever flesh he could get a hold of, the friction and tightness of her around him forcing him to the brink of insanity. He began to move, eyeing the shadow that approached them, and stopped at a full halt. 

 

The shadow made its reveal to be none other than Kurusu Akira. Akechi grinned, roaming Cloud Nine as he listened to Makoto whine and beg for him to move, and the exact pinpoint of when he could see Akira’s heart rip in half. 

 

“Do you want me to move? Is that what Her Highness wants?” he asked in sing-song seduction. 

 

“Yessss,” she hissed, taking matters into her own hands and thrusting herself at her own pace. 

 

Akechi wondered if Akira could hear.

 

“Why don’t you beg for it? Like the good girl you are,” he suggested. 

 

“I didn’t realize you had a thing for defiling good girls,” she sneered, riding out her desire on his cock, watching his face twist in pleasure.

 

“Oh, you’ve got me all wrong then if you think I was interested in anything but the good girl type,” he said, half-groaning as he neared orgasm, “That is what you are, right? Or have I got you all wrong as well?”

 

Makoto wanted to punch him, and so she did with her mouth over his. She couldn’t stand to hear that pretty boy voice of his any longer, fully intending to focus on coming as she rode him, sliding expertly.

 

Akechi watched Akira realize what he  _ almost _ walked in on, turn the other way and run out of the building. Even in the dark, if one could focus for a few moments, it was obvious what was unfolding in that room. Akechi’s taunts turned strangely romantic when he pulled away from her seductive tongue. 

 

“You’re driving me crazy,” he admitted lowly, “You’re going to make me come if you keep going like that.”

 

“You’re so sweet,” she said venomously. 

 

“God, if only you knew how much I’ve wanted you,” he continued.

 

“I will if you shut up,” she said, digging her nails into the back of his neck. 

 

“I mean it,” he was serious now. 

 

Makoto was silent, wishing he hadn’t suddenly changed his tactic to embarrass her with sweet talk. Her face twisted in surprise. 

 

“How about it, Your Highness?” he cooed, “How about I make you mine?”

 

“C-can you…. Shut up?” her voice faltered as her body betrayed her, thoroughly enticed by those string of words. 

 

“The Detective Prince and his princess?” he suggested, feeling her cunt squeeze in response. 

 

“Ngh… Fuck you-”

 

“I am,” he replied innocently. 

 

And as if his litter of seductions didn’t get any worse, Makoto came, mouth parted as she cried out intangible words and moans. He followed soon after, thrusting into her a few more times before his come filled the condom that contained him. What he would’ve given to know that she could’ve been the one to receive him so graciously, their come mixing and becoming one, sealing the deal. 

 

Her body slumped forward on top of him, the poor chair they had sullied in their first time would be the seat of some none-the-wiser student the following day. 

 

“How about it, princess?” he whispered, “I don’t take no for an answer, as much of a gentleman as I may seem to be.”

 

“If you’re a gentleman then I’m a queen,” she scoffed.

 

“... Not an unacceptable argument. The Detective Prince and his queen, then?” he asked again. 

 

“Fuck you.”

 

“Again? Anything Her Highness wants-”

 

Makoto crushed her lips onto his to shut him up. She unfortunately liked what he was proposing - the part about being his. 

 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he smirked. 


	5. billion dollar man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FancyPotatocake requested something fluffy where Makoto proposes to Akechi in a dorky way. What's dorkier than two nerds always trying to one-up the other? Thank you for requesting this! It turned out to be a lot of fun to write.

Makoto huffed, and flopped over on top of the warm laundry she had just dragged out of the dryer. Even on her day off, she found herself running errands and doing chores, much to her dismay. It really had been a long time since she’d had the time to herself, let alone time to spend with Akechi - the detective likely laughing at her  _ pain _ of a day off and having  _ so  _ much fun at work doing case file paperwork. She found herself falling asleep for a brief moment, the warmth of their clothes extremely comfy. After a moment, she picked herself up and sauntered to put the clothes into their respective dressers. 

 

There was something strange in Akechi’s - an obvious out-of-place item sat under a pile of thin shirts. Makoto picked up the black velvet box, admittedly having never seen anything of the sort when they’d moved in together a few months ago. Only in hindsight did she realize she might have been overthinking it. It was a ring box. And that’s when she decided she had to run.

 

\------

 

“What?!” 

 

“Shhhh!” 

 

“Y-you… you think he’s going to propose?” Ann, the chirpy blonde asked, hardly able to suppress her excitement.

 

“I don’t know! I… I feel like I ruined it. I’m sure he meant for it to be a surprise and-”

 

Makoto hid her face in her hands, almost knocking over her cup of coffee on the Leblanc counter. Ann slid it out of reach as she sulked over the counter. Akira took one look at the girls and decided he’d be better off  _ not _ putting his two cents in. 

 

“Mako-chan, what are you going to do? Don’t you want to marry him?” Haru asked, sipping her tea as she waited for her reply.

 

Makoto took a moment to gather her thoughts, face in obvious turmoil.

 

“The truth is… I always thought I would be the one to ask him,” Makoto admitted shyly. 

 

“Woah… talk about progressive,” Ann said in surprise, “I just hope if I ever get proposed to there will be a ton of sweets! I’ll take that over a ring.”

 

“I’m not sure I want to get married,” Haru said thoughtfully, “There’s just no time for that kinda stuff when I have to worry about Okumura Foods first.”

 

“Oh right, Makoto... What are you going to do then?” Ann asked.

 

“It shouldn’t be a big deal, right? Obviously he wants to ask so-”

 

Akira popped his head back out, finally catching enough hints as to what the conversation was about. 

 

“Sounds like your rivalry has followed you into the bedroom,” he teased.

 

Makoto sulked, not disagreeing with her competitive nature. Of course, she had to date the guy who  _ got off _ to one-upping her in literally everything. The proposal may be her last opportunity to turn the tables on him, and yet she couldn’t help but feel slight disappointment in discovering his plan before it had come to fruition. She didn’t particularly like surprises, but she was certain Akechi was thinking hard about how he was going to do it - how long did he have that ring with him anyways?

 

“I can’t let him win,” Makoto grumbled to herself.

 

“Leave it to the two of you to make it into a competition of who proposes first,” Akira chuckled lowly, “So then how are you going to do it?”

 

She looked up at the barista, giving the girls beside her a sheepish look, she pulled out the ring box from her purse to show them. She set it in front of her on the counter before leaning down to look at it like it was a tiny bomb. 

 

“... You took it?!” Haru gasped.

 

“I know, I know! I’m… I freaked out,” Makoto said, clearly frazzled.

 

“He’s going to know it’s missing,” Ann told her, “Isn’t he off work soon?”

 

“I think he’s staying late tonight,” Makoto replied, face in her hands, “I have some time.”

 

“What are you planning to do with it?” Akira asked curiously, “I haven’t looked but I don’t think he’s going to feel good knowing that half his year’s salary is missing.”

 

“I know,” Makoto cried, “God I… I should just go home, put it back where I found it... “

 

“But…” Akira egged her, knowing there was a caveat with Makoto as always.

 

“I’m going to go buy a ring,” she announced.

 

\------

 

Makoto clutched her purse with dear life - she got cold feet every time she attempted to pry it open to look at it. She agreed with Akira - knowing Akechi, he was flashy, and he wouldn’t have left the ring store without making it known that he was so thoroughly and happily taken. It was even more obvious when she handed it to her friends to look at - Ann stunned, Haru obviously impressed, and Akira smirking as always. She trudged through the crowds of people until she arrived at the busy department store in Shibuya, fully intending to reluctantly pry open her savings. 

 

“Hi, I’d like to buy a ring,” she announced to the girl behind the glass counters. 

 

“... Sure, is this for yourself?” the clerk asked nervously.

 

“Yes- wait. No. It’s not.”

 

“Oh, for your sister or your mom?”

 

“No, no. I uh… An engagement ring,” Makoto clarified, face warm from her blunders.

 

“Oh! For your girlfriend?” the clerk asked in excitement.

 

“No, I have a boyfriend,” she replied in embarrassment, “I want to propose to my boyfriend.”

 

The girl frowned in realization. 

 

“Do you know his ring size? What kind of style does he like? Setting?” the girl probed with questions.

 

“Umm…. I don’t know any of that,” Makoto admitted.

 

“I… how can I help you, then?”

 

Makoto pulled out the box from her purse reluctantly to show the girl. She handed it over, almost unwilling to let someone else handle something so expensive. How was she planning to wear something so flashy in person? 

 

The clerk frowned. She looked up at Makoto and then sighed.

 

“Is this a joke? Do you just want me to put any ring in here?”

 

“W-what?”

 

“It’s empty. You gave me an empty ring box.”

 

\------

 

Makoto was distraught when she left the store. All in a day’s time, she discovered that not only was Akechi planning to propose, she’d went ahead and took the ring and lost it. Day’s off time well spent. She retraced her steps, knowing very well that her friends had seen it when she showed them - right? They would’ve told her if it was empty. 

 

“Makoto…?”

 

She jumped at the voice. It was Akechi. 

 

“H-honey,” she greeted him nervously. 

 

He looked at her strangely, both confused in her nervousness and why she was seemingly trying to run away from him. She did the latter - bolting across the street in an attempt to run while in heels. His gut reaction was to chase after, knowing very well now that something was wrong.

 

Makoto weaved through the alleys, outrunning him easily given all the training she had to do in the police academy. Unfortunately for her, he knew her too well - her strategies at work, on the field, all of it. He turned the other way and maneuvered himself to catch her running towards him. She skidded on her heels to stop, yelping knowing that she had nowhere left to go.

 

“All right, let’s hear it. Did you burn the house down?”

 

“No! And I did all of your laundry today too, how dare you?!” she scoffed.

 

Akechi walked towards her, preparing to chase after her if she attempted to run again. Her heart was pounding as she caught her breath. Grabbing hold of her wrist to ensure she wouldn’t take off again, he eyed her carefully with a smirk.

 

“Then are you ready to tell me what happened?” he asked. 

 

“No…”

 

“You’re going to have to eventually,” he told her, “Let’s make this easy for the both of us, sweetheart.”

 

“Ngh…”

 

Makoto preferred to run. She attempted to yank her arm away from him and he caught her waist instead. There was no escape. In their brief struggle, she finally gave in when she noticed a developing crowd of onlookers throw confused stares at the two of them - and when he dipped his face into the crook of her neck, knowing very well how ticklish she was.

 

“Okay, okay! I’ll tell you-”

 

She pushed him off of her, and he smiled triumphantly, waiting patiently for her to start. Makoto let out a sigh, stared up at the starry sky and begged whoever was up there to convince Akechi not to blow up once he heard that she’d lost his likely-million yen ring.

 

“I lost the ring.”

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“... The ring in your dresser.”

 

“What ring?”

 

“Okay don’t play dumb. I know you bought a ring for me and you were planning to propose. I went ahead and um… lost it. Because I was afraid. And yeah.”

 

“You’re… you were afraid I was going to propose to you so you purposely lost the ring,” he reiterated her words back to her.

 

“Well… yes. I mean, no. Not really. Gah, I wanted to be the one to propose to you, okay?!” she finally admitted.

 

He looked at her without a response, and then released her. 

 

“I… I went to go buy you a ring,” she said quietly, “And they were asking me all these questions that I didn’t know how to answer and I wanted to tell the clerk that I just wanted a ring that was more expensive than the one you got me and then… it was gone. I’m sorry, I… I know it was expensive and I promise I’ll pay you back.”

 

“Where did you lose it?” he asked her.

 

“I don’t know. It was likely between the time I went to Leblanc and the department store.”

 

“Uh-huh. Leblanc,” Akechi repeated slowly, “Did you show anyone the ring, Makoto?”

 

“Ann and Haru were with me… Akira also saw it.”

 

“Akira, huh?” he smirked, “So, he saw that it was empty, then.”

 

“W-what?”

 

“I knew you wouldn’t look at it.”

 

“... So it was empty?”

 

Akechi grinned at her as she slowly began to realize. 

 

“You weren’t planning to propose, were you?” she asked quietly.

 

“Oh, no. I was. I just knew that you’d find it somehow, do something crazy like you tried to do today, and then ruin the surprise, which it did,” he explained to her.

 

“It sounds to me that I’m the only one with a ring here,  _ and  _ I plan on being the one to propose,” she told him, reaching inside her purse. 

 

“That’s fine. I’m rejecting you before you embarrass yourself.”

 

“W-what?! What’s wrong with a girl asking?”

 

“There’s nothing wrong with it. Except,” he reached into his back pocket and pulled out another ring box, “It’s an unsuccessful proposal if I say no. I’m saying no now before you do so you can just save it.”

 

“Ngh. You really don’t want to marry me?” she asked, clearly hurt. 

 

“Makoto, I fully intend to marry you. I just think that you should’ve left it up to me to ask the question,” he said, grinning.

 

He revealed the ring to her, a diamond worth at least a year’s salary if not more, sat in the box, glimmering under the lamps on the street. 

 

“You keep it with you,” she said quietly.

 

“Of course. It would’ve been my way out of arguments. Too bad we never have any,” he chuckled to himself, “Or if you had said no, I would’ve cashed it in and bought an island to live out the rest of my days.”

 

Makoto was speechless, even more so when he attempted to grab her hand. 

 

“You one-upped me again,” she pouted.

 

“Don’t fret, darling,” he hushed her, pressing his lips to her forehead, “Some of us are just better than others at it.”

 

“I’m turning you down.”

 

“No, you’re not.”

 

“I’m going to be the one to ask,” she said firmly.

 

“How about I save you that trouble and surrender instead?” he offered.

 

“You know I only win fair and square,” she furrowed her brows.

 

“Maybe that’s why you never win with me,” he grinned.

 

Akechi laughed, pulling her close into an embrace. Makoto rolled her eyes at his response, looking down at the ring he had slipped onto her finger. She smiled to herself, heart fluttering at the thought of becoming his. 

 

“Contrary to popular opinion, I’m not as flashy as you all seem to think I am,” he explained, “Honestly, I had no idea how I was going to do it. I just knew I would.”

 

Makoto didn’t respond, clutching onto him as he held her tightly.

 

“Are you cross with me?” he asked.

 

“Yes. I’m going to tell everyone that you proposed to me on the street with no flowers or fireworks.”

 

“I’ll tell them that I knew you didn’t want any of that.”

 

“I’ll tell them that you don’t know me very well at all.”

 

“And then I’ll tell them you nearly lost an 11 billion yen ring-”

 

“ _ 11 billion?!”  _

  
  
  



	6. lavender and velvet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> get on your knees, confess your love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A request for dom!Makoto and priest!Akechi, poor, unfortunate soul.

You never wear something that leaves much to the imagination - this was especially the case with priests. The tired, celibate, abstaining creatures pounced at any given opportunity to eye the incoming female churchgoers and their choice in wardrobe for the day, except for one. They didn’t particularly care for Makoto, knowing very well to frown whenever she made her presence known on Sundays. There was something demonic about her- perhaps it was simply the fact that they  _ knew  _ they wouldn’t be dealing with a woman willed to submission. There’d be claws, blood, and most definitely no ounce of enjoyment on their end, especially when it came to release- the priests knew, even in abstinence. 

 

She did very little to hide, but it was in her nature to dress conservatively anyways. There was never much room for imagination - a shame, some of the older priests thought to themselves. Makoto didn’t have the long, silky hair that most of their patrons had, proving to be a testament more so that she was a fan of the devil most likely. And those eyes, they thought - no one would feel holy looking at the glow of red as she stared up at them, mouth parted and breath hitched as she willed them to continue. No, the priests didn’t prefer Makoto as eye candy, but they likely wouldn’t have turned her down if she offered - as if she would. Had Akechi been exposed to these slew of thoughts, he might have disagreed- proof in the way he was eyeing her now during mass. 

 

The church woman wore an extremely low cut black jumper, the ones with long sleeves and flared pant holes that most definitely hugged the curves of some women more, and others less. Makoto was right in between- the Bible in her hand as she flipped through the pages to follow along- the jumper hugged the curve from her waist to her hips in the moment that anyone would’ve been graced to see before she sat down in the row of pews. Her back, if they had seen her turn, was thoroughly revealed in the backless garment save for a single black bra strap that proved she wasn’t quite on the prowl to tantalize anyone. That might have all been the case if Akechi’s own mahogany eyes didn’t gleam down further than he was supposed to. 

 

There was an obvious, out-of-place garment near the bottom of the v shape back- something lacy and black to match the rest of the outfit certainly. He found himself staring, half wondering and half mesmerized- it wasn’t the first time he had stared at Makoto like this. Only when she had turned to face him, red lips turning upwards into a small smile at his realization did Akechi realize she was wearing a garter belt. In church, on full display. The cut of the jumper really was  _ too  _ low. And so he had to ask.

 

———

 

Akechi didn’t know how he found himself in this predicament, and it always seemed as if he was particularly good at attracting the wrong - or right - kind of attention from women. Makoto had offered him a closer look - evidence for his investigation. She found herself pressed against the cold wall in front of her, pulling what short strands of hair may be hiding her back from view to the front for his eyes to see. 

 

“Why are you wearing this to church? It’s unacceptable,” his firm and  _ obviously  _ frustrated voice came.

 

Had he not been touching her, fingers slipping under the straps of her garter and breathing heavily when he brushed against her soft, warm skin, Makoto might have entertained the idea that he was angry. Akechi was afraid he’d slip, mouth claiming all the flesh in front of him as his own, or maybe he’d pull the jumper off easily and roam his hands around her body at his own discretion. 

 

“I wanted to,” she admitted quietly, unashamed, “Seems like you like it.”

 

He did, Akechi hissed to himself. He was so close yet so far- every fiber of his being holding him back from taking her right against the wall of the church. Had anyone seen them usher themselves into the off-limits area of the church, they might have followed to investigate. No one bothered, and they were so obviously alone. Makoto did him a favor. 

 

The sleeve on the left arm went first, and then the right. Had Akechi not been so engrossed in each inch of newly revealed skin, he might have firmly gripped her hand from continuing- but he was gone, fully entrenched in his lust for flesh. Only when Makoto stepped out of her jumper, the fabric pooling at her feet, did Akechi realize it was a mistake. Not only was she wearing a garter belt - thoroughly inappropriate for church - a pair of thigh highs matched the rest of the outfit. The curve of her rear was  _ awfully  _ revealing in the lacy black thong that she clearly put thought into. It was all planned, and Akechi didn’t know what to do except to follow his primal instincts. 

 

His hand reached for her hips, gripping them much harder than he should’ve, but he was nervous. 

 

“Who said you could touch me?” she asked.

 

She smiled to herself when she heard him whimper, pulling away from her reluctantly. His obvious and aching erection was still pressed to the curve of her rear, but she  _ guessed  _ she would allow that much. Her hand reached behind her, stroking him through the fabric of his cassock. She hadn’t seen it, but just from touch alone, she could tell that he was thoroughly blessed in that area, and she couldn’t wait to feel it inside of her. Maybe another time. 

 

“Do you want me?” she feigned sweetly.

 

“Yes,” Akechi confessed without hesitation.

 

“Aren’t you afraid of getting caught?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Then you best be quiet,” she murmured.

 

It was the last time she’d be the one against the wall. She turned to face him, revealing the full of her breasts in the push-up bra, and the curve of her hips masked by the garters. He caught himself salivating at the view, wishing he could touch her, feel all of her around his fingers, around his cock. 

 

“I want to touch you,” he pleaded, swallowing the painful lump in his throat.

 

“Maybe some other time,” she said nonchalantly, “After you prove your worth to me.”

 

Akechi let out a painful grunt when Makoto pushed him down by the shoulder like a witch with her wand, and he sank to his knees in front of her. He watched her smirk and revel in his submission. He couldn’t deny his want to please her, and yet he ached for something worthwhile to at least counter his loss of virginity. Makoto stroked his jaw gently as she pressed her stomach to his chin. She looked down on him lovingly before pressing her cunt to his lips. The smell of her desire alone made him dizzy, and he did as he was told, lapping at her core to her heart’s content. He hardly knew what he was doing, allowing her to sit on his face and ride him at her own pace. Akechi placed his hands on her ass tentatively, squeezing the flesh there as he groaned into her core. Makoto gripped the back of his head, pulling on his hair when he licked at her clit experimentally before sucking on it gently. 

 

“Oh, you’re a natural,” she coaxed, “I think I’ll keep you.”

 

Akechi was in so much pain, the ache in his lower region too much to bear as if it weren’t already so painful to be celibate. Things could have only naturally gotten worse when Makoto started going to church. 

 

He gasped when she caught him palming himself through the tent of the heavy robe, pressing the front of her heels onto his cock all while she rolled her eyes into the back of her skull. Not only was he being ripped apart from his inability to touch her, Makoto domineered him away from his own throbbing need. He had to please her if he could even  _ hope _ to be free of his pain. 

 

When he discovered her folds, tongue entering curiously to taste her there, Makoto nearly came. She vocalized in a soft cry, the sound traveled straight into Akechi’s cock and nearly ripped him from the inside out. He wanted to come so badly, he wanted to know what the pleasure she was enjoying alone felt like, and most of all he wanted it with her. Makoto pressed his face flush into her, clutching onto him tightly as he sucked and licked. Her body throbbed wildly as she neared her orgasm, shivering and trembling at the sensation as she held onto him for dear life, hoping he wouldn’t stop. Harder, faster. And soon, she found herself basking in her afterglow, legs holding up as best as she could. 

 

Makoto released her foot on his cock, smirking weakly as she noted the wetness through his cassock.

 

“I want you to have it,” Akechi muttered in a haze, “My virginity.”

 

“Oh? You’re smitten with me after one act?” she teased.

 

“I always have been,” he confessed, “I want you… I want you to show me everything.”

 

Makoto pulled her jumper over her legs and slid both arms into the garment, pretending to contemplate his request. Before she left, face flushed and glowing, she swiped her fingers across the bottom of his lip, basking in the thought of her come in his mouth.

 

“You want me to take your virginity?” she asked carefully.

 

“Yes,” he answered hypnotically.

 

“I’ll have you beg for it, then,” she promised. 

 

Akechi was appalled at the response, knowing he’d have his work cut out for him with a woman like her. Perhaps he’d seduce her with his submission, only hoping his own domineering persona didn’t come out to claim her before it all happened. He watched her walk away, heels clicking against the marble floor. Makoto threw a glance back at the priest before she turned the corner, the smirk revealing that maybe she really did worship the devil in secret. 

  
  



	7. earned it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you’re always worth it, and you deserve it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akechi wants to propose to Makoto, and of course, asks Sae for permission for her hand.
> 
> Thank you for the request! I love them.
> 
> (Also, thank you to the person that bought me a coffee anonymously! If you have a prompt you’d like me to fill, please let me know <3)

Like every Niijima, Sae had a hard time not slamming the door on Akechi when he knocked one fine day. He greeted her with the usual cheery wave and what she considered a shit-eating grin. Her gut instinct prompted her to release the door and just as it was about to autolock, he luckily grabbed it and waltzed inside, invited. After all, he was dating Niijima Makoto, and Sae had no one to blame except herself for  _ accidentally _ introducing them. Needless to say, Sae avoided coming home even more so when the two started dating -  _ noise _ , for one (it was mostly the noise). 

 

“What are you doing here?” Sae sighed, wine glass in one hand, and the remote in the other, “You  _ know _ Makoto’s gone for the weekend.”

 

It was her day off. Akechi knew. Somehow.

 

“I know. I came to see you, actually,” he admitted.

 

“Cool. You couldn’t have texted me?” she snided.

 

“No. It’s a matter of grave importance, I’m afraid,” he said sardonically.

 

“Get on with it,” Sae commanded, plopping herself onto the sofa and taking a swig of the red liquid.

 

She so desperately hoped they weren’t fighting and he’d come to her to seek advice. Come to think of it, Makoto never really explained why she was going on her trip. Sae had simply assumed it was with Akechi. Her mind buzzed like a machine as she promptly ran through the possibilities of why he’d sought her out as she waited for him to speak his piece. He took a deep breath before setting his attache case onto the floor by the sofa and settling along the angled curve. Sae furrowed her brows as she stared at him menacingly, untrusting.

 

“I want to ask Makoto marry me.”

 

Sae was prone to bad news when she heard it, and instead of any normal civilian spitting out their drink, she choked on hers.

 

“N-no,” she stammered, coughing. 

 

“Yes.”

 

“Did you buy a ring?” she asked.

 

“Yes-“

 

“I’d return it if I were you,” she told him, still coughing from the aftermath.

 

“... I plan on asking with or without your permission,” he said quietly.

 

“Then why are you here?” she asked incredulously.

 

Akechi shifted slightly, grimacing as he prepared himself for the next part.

 

“You both lost your father.”

 

Sae didn’t have the heart to butt in.

 

“And as I’m sure you know by now, mine is on his way to prison. I wouldn’t want him to be at the wedding anyways. He never wanted to see me happy, I’m sure,” he sighed.

 

“What’s your point?” Sae asked, downing the rest of her glass of wine. She’s going to need another most likely.

 

“I know Makoto would want you to be the one to walk her down the aisle,” he pleaded, “I’d rather this fight be between you and me than with her later.”

 

“How thoughtful,” Sae rolled her eyes.

 

“Why are you so opposed to the idea?” he wondered, “I could prove it to you, although I’ve done quite too much of that already with Makoto if I’m to be honest.”

 

“I don’t need your proof. It’s not like I won’t walk her down the aisle or whatever, I just don’t approve.”

 

“Aha. I figured as much. Wouldn’t it be nice though? A family of strays.”

 

Sae leaned back into the couch, feeling the dampness of her hair slowly air drying. There wasn’t a real reason she didn’t approve of Akechi. She just didn’t approve of Akechi  _ and  _ Makoto together. Something just churned in her gut when she thought about it- was it even something that Makoto would want?

 

“You’d trap her and make her a housewife,” Sae countered.

 

“I wouldn’t. I’ve already made it clear that the best part about dating her is that she knows how to keep a distance. Well,” he smirked obviously, “One of the best parts.”

 

Somehow, Sae knew he was talking about the  _ many  _ late nights where the both of them kept her up. 

 

“You’re going to want her to bear your children, I presume,” Sae suggested carefully.

 

“I’m not sure that’s in either of our future. We’re both employed in risky careers. I wouldn’t want to burden our children with any possibility of living without a father or a mother,” he explained, suddenly very interested in staring at the light grey walls.

 

“She’s going to move out,” Sae said quietly.

 

Akechi turned to look at her as she attempted to take another sip from her empty glass, completely forgetting that it was finished. She looked perplexed, almost sad as she thought about it. The first two interrogations were implications, but Sae knew that Makoto would leave her. Had he known any better, he would’ve attempted to placate the prosecutor by comforting her and reassurance. He was a detective after all, blessed in rationality and logic.

 

“Most likely,” he told her, “I don’t know why she wouldn’t.”

 

“I hate working with you,” Sae said out of the blue.

 

“I know. But you know I’m necessary,” he pointed out.

 

She was quiet, contemplating his words for a moment before getting up to pour herself another glass.

 

“I’ll take those small cases you got the other week,” he offered from the sofa.

 

“Which ones?” she asked sarcastically, knowing that there were at least five she was dreading.

 

“All of them,” he said.

 

She poured the glass three-quarters full, nodding in contemplation. Making her way to sit back on the sofa, she’d already downed it halfway before turning to him.

 

“No.”

 

“There’s got to be something-“

 

“Do you  _ really  _ want to earn my favor through bribing me?” she asked, squinting.

 

“I’m sure you’re familiar with the tactic,” he pointed out. 

 

“I’m familiar with it and that’s how I know when it’s being used against me,” she smirked.

 

Akechi felt like he could breathe now that he could sense he was getting closer to his goal.

 

“Then allow me to be straightforward with you, prosecutor. What can I do to earn your approval for your sister’s hand in marriage?” he asked lowly, leaning forward. 

 

Sae would’ve loved to say nothing, but she could think of a few things at least he could’ve done for her. But this wasn’t about her.

 

“Call her. See if she picks up,” Sae told him, taking a sip from the glass.

 

He gave her a cautious glance, wondering what she had in store for him. Akechi knew that Makoto wasn’t particularly keen on picking up the phone when she was busy. Perhaps they were taking a gamble on whether or not she would pick up. 

 

He pressed 1 for speed dial. 

 

“Speaker on,” Sae prompted.

 

He did as she said. Makoto picked up almost instantly.

 

“Goro?” the squeak of his lover from the other line made his heart pump a few beats faster.

 

“Hi, I just wanted to see if you’d pick up,” he said sweetly, deciding it’d probably be best to leave off all the usual  _ pet names. _

 

“... Okay?” 

 

Akechi grinned, suddenly nervous that he’d never tried calling her without a reason before. Sae couldn’t help but smirk at their interaction.

 

“Can I help you with something?” Makoto asked, seemingly impatient.

 

“No, I just wanted to hear your voice,” he half-lied.

 

“I thought you sent me on this all expenses paid vacation, which I’m very grateful for by the way, so I could try not thinking about you for two days,” she said sarcastically.

 

“I know. But I think I made a mistake because I should’ve came with,” he told her.

 

“I mean, I didn’t quite peg you as someone who liked spas but-“

 

“Hey listen, Makoto,” he turned to look at Sae, “Would you want to spend the rest of your life with me?”

 

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and knowing Makoto, she likely had it all figured out by now.

 

“I mean, probably,” she said nonchalantly.

 

Sae had to stifle her laughter.

 

“Are you missing me so much you’re having an existential crisis?” Makoto asked.

 

“Kind of,” he said smiling. 

 

The line went silent for a short while. Sae cringing as she waited for the next cavity-filled line to come. 

 

“I miss you, too,” Makoto said quietly, likely ensuring others around her weren’t listening in.

 

“Come home soon,” he told her.

 

“You know I will.” 

 

She hung up, and Sae let out a sigh of relief. Interestingly enough, they didn’t ooze “I love you” like every couple she knew. For a brief moment, she wondered what it was that pit the two of them together in a rivalry that somehow eased perfectly into a relationship.

 

“God that was painful,” she admitted, “Kind of regretting that.”

 

“Did that change anything?” he asked.

 

Sae sighed, watching Akechi lean into his seat eagerly. 

 

“I mean, probably,” she mimicked Makoto.

 

Akechi grinned from ear to ear, stifling back a laugh of relief. Sae closed her eyes, knowing it could’ve been so easy if she just admitted early on that she had approved of them, that she liked them together. It wasn’t in the Niijima nature though. She knew that for Makoto as well, smiling to herself.


	8. decadence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dark chocolate cake with chocolate whipped cream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Makoto buys Akechi a cake with whipped cream. He repays her in one of the obviously preferred ways when he finds the frosting on her hands, her neck, her chest....
> 
> Thank you for the request! It was surprisingly fun to write.

Makoto’s mouth watered when she waltzed through Shibuya’s Underground Food Market for the first time. She had always simply switched lines at Shibuya, never really taking in the city at all- she knew it wasn’t her scene. But when she heard it had one of the best cake shops in all of Tokyo, she knew she’d make the trek on her way home from work for Akechi’s birthday at the very least.

 

“Ahh, marble cake,” she murmured to herself, wondering when the last time she had cake with Ann was.

 

Makoto didn’t particularly like sweets but Ann and Haru both gave her the tip to go check it out especially if it was for a significant other. Come to think of it, she might have been making a mistake especially since Akechi admitted to caring very little for sweets. Perhaps she’d pick one that she knew she’d like knowing she’d be the only one eating it for the next week or so.

 

A matcha cake sounded good, but she preferred cheesecake when it came to matcha. Maybe a tres leches cake with all the strawberries on top, or maybe not. She hadn’t realized her hands had been plastered onto the glass of the display case until the clerk cleared her throat.

 

She stepped back, embarrassed at her behavior. Maybe a coffee cake would be best.

 

_No, Makoto. The cake’s not for you._

 

“I recommend the vanilla fudge whipped cream cake,” the clerk spoke up.

 

“O-oh. He doesn’t really care for vanilla,” Makoto mentioned, hand to her chin as she contemplated the suggestion - both in flavor and in bed, now that she thought about it.

 

“I figured it was for someone else,” the clerk smirked, suddenly understanding why Makoto looked like she had no idea what she was doing, “What does he like?”

 

“Not sure…”

 

The girl deadpanned, wishing there were other customers she could tend to. Nope, it was only Makoto.

 

“What about strawberries?”

 

“He doesn’t really eat much fruit.”

 

“... Carrot cake.”

 

“Hm. Would a vegetable in a cake taste good?”

 

“Whipped cream?” the clerk offered finally.

 

“... Maybe. What do you have?”

 

“Your boyfriend doesn’t seem to like sweets, right?”

 

“Yeah. Now that you mention it.”

 

“How about a dark chocolate cake with chocolate whipped cream?” the clerk pointed to the one right in front of her.

 

Makoto’s eyes widened as she took in the masterpiece. Chocolate whipped cream sounded especially good for some reason, and dark chocolate would have to do for the bitter detective.

 

“That’s the one.”

 

———

 

Makoto was happy with her choice, and even more relieved to find that she was the first to arrive home which hadn’t been the usual case for the last few weeks. With a few moments to prepare - she could sense Akechi was near - she removed the cake out of its cardboard container neatly, searching for candles next. Unfortunately, neither one of them had the need for such things and so she opted for the cake as is. Staring at it a bit longer, she realized it looked a bit plain with no writing or decoration. The whipped cream really was piled high.

 

She took the liberty of carving out the words “Happy Birthday Goro” with the excessive and generous amounts of whipped cream on the side, only to realize she’d only started making a mess. She slipped out of her white dress shirt, fully intending to wear it the following day, and began to focus.

 

With a knife in hand, Makoto almost jumped at the sound of the door unlocking, her pulse quickening. She quickly spread the cream along the sides of the cake, evening it out to the best of her ability, only to realize she’d gotten frosting all over her hands and chest in the unfamiliar ordeal. To make matters worse, she’d only successfully written _Happy Birthday G._

 

“H-honey,” Makoto said nervously, turning around to face him with her hands behind her back to cover the cake behind her.

 

Akechi eyed her curiously, knowing she’d done something for his birthday even though he asked her not to.

 

“What did you do?” he asked.

 

“N-nothing! Um… happy birthday,” she said shyly, moving off to the side to reveal the cake for him.

 

Akechi promptly eyed the cake, firmly unsurprised yet amazed that Makoto had gone through some lengths to surprise him. He was touched, for certain.

 

“Are you dating someone named G?” he asked in amusement.

 

Makoto blushed, forgetting in her nervousness she hadn’t finished writing his name.

 

“No!”

 

“You know they’ll write out anything you want if you ask them to,” he told her.

 

“O-oh. I didn’t know,” she replied in instant regret at her lack of preparedness, “Gah. I didn’t know what you liked either and-“

 

“It’s fine, Makoto. I’m still happy that you did all of this. Even though I did ask you not to,” he smirked, “I’m sure you know I’m not too fond of sweets.”

 

“But it’s your birthday,” she replied indignantly.

 

“I know,” he said quietly, leaning in to kiss her, “Why do you taste like whipped cream?”

 

“H-huh?!”

 

She forgot that in her rush to prepare, she hadn’t changed out of the white tank top plastered with chocolate whipped cream and in her attempts to hide, she’d licked whatever she could find on her fingers. Makoto looked at him sheepishly before he leaned in for more, tasting the whipped cream in her mouth.

 

“What… about your cake?” she asked breathily.

 

“The cake can wait,” he replied lustfully, “You’re all dirty. Let’s clean you up.”

 

Before she could refuse, Akechi had her pinned to the counter behind her and his hands in her hair. Pulling the strands to the side, his lips went straight for the whipped cream at her neck, tasting the sweetness of her skin.

 

“Chocolate, huh?” he asked, grinning against her skin, “Did you do this on purpose? It’s all over you. I didn’t peg you as such a dirty girl.”

 

“C-can you… stop with the teasing?” she asked, voice trembling as he nipped all along her neck.

 

“Oh, so you do want this?”

 

Makoto couldn’t reply when his kisses transformed into sucking as he painted her skin with light bruises. He pressed his lips against her fingers, licking wherever she had missed in her _unfortunate_ mess.

 

“All over your shirt, too?” he teased her against her wishes, “I think you should take that off.”

 

She did as he said reluctantly- it was his birthday after all. He was slightly disappointed that the only whipped cream he could find in the wake of his nipping was only along the curve of her cleavage. Akechi slid his blazer off and tugged off his tie.

 

“Sorry, honey.”

 

Makoto leaned up from the counter to witness Akechi lathering the frosting from the top of the cake onto her breast and claiming her in his mouth. She let out a moan as his tongue worked out the ministrations he was so good at, nipping and licking all the frosting from her body.

 

“Ohhh, god. Why would you do that-“

 

“You know why,” he replied huskily, mouth traveling down her body.

 

His fingers worked at the zipper of her pants, and then pulled them down in one motion. He pressed his raging erection against her thigh to show her how much he wanted her before he rid himself of his own pants.

 

“How do you want it?” he asked her, lips ghosting over hers before kissing her gently.

 

“Hnn, whatever you want,” she cried.

 

“Hmm? And why’s that?” he asked once more, tongue licking her jaw.

 

“It’s your birthday,” she muttered indignantly.

 

“Oh? Is that so? I wish you’d be this obedient all the time,” he teased.

 

“N-no you don’t.”

 

Akechi couldn’t help but laugh, fully intending on releasing his wrath throughout the rest of the evening. He’d go easy on her now, _as a thank you for the birthday gift_. He was half surprised when she was fully wet, bearing witness to her soft throbs as she waited for him.

 

“You know I have every intention of teasing you,” he admitted.

 

“I know,” she whined in half-regret.

 

He licked his lips before slipping his tongue between her folds to taste her. His hands held her thighs when she began to squirm, licking up to her clit.

 

“God-“

 

“Yes?”

 

“Shut up-“

 

He continued his teasing, tasting her between his lips and decidedly liking her more than the frosting even still.

 

“You taste better than any cake you could’ve given me,” he swooned, leaning up to kiss her, “I think I’m starting to like them if it’s with you.”

 

Makoto tasted the sweetness of the leftover whipped cream and the tang of her desire.

 

“Why are you like this-“

 

“You’re so mean to me, even on my birthday,” he pouted.

 

Makoto grit her teeth in attempts to continue being sweet. She wasn’t the best in the _dirty talk_ department - Akechi was the expert and she let him beat her at that. Her breath hitched when he entered her with no warning, moaning loudly at the throb of his girth.

 

She looked up at him indignantly before wrapping her legs around his waist as he thrust into her on their counter. To her dismay, he reached for more whipped cream, this time to swipe along her lips and then into her mouth. Makoto whimpered as she sucked on his fingers, tasting the velvet of the chocolate along her tongue - too sweet for her liking. Akechi’s movements slowed when he leaned in to taste her, kissing her sweetly.

 

“I love you,” he murmured against her lips, claiming them once more for good measure.

 

Makoto looked away shyly, eyes rolling to the back of her skull as he made love to her so agonizingly slow and sweet. She felt his hands run along her chest, stopping briefly to rub at her clit- a sensation she wasn’t particularly familiar with. That combined with the slow thrusts put her at the edge.

 

“I love you, Makoto,” he said once more, “so much it hurts.”

 

“Hnn… ngh-! I’m…”

 

She pulled him down harshly, crushing her lips to his as she rode out her orgasm. He tasted like chocolate, so unbearably sweet and terribly like love.

 

“Say it,” he whispered, brows furrowing as he neared his own orgasm, “Please.”

 

Makoto ran her fingers up his face, tugging at him gently to kiss her once more.

 

“I love you,” she murmured, loud enough for him to hear, quiet enough for the world around them to ignore- body throbbing and trembling as she said the words in tandem with her orgasm.

 

Akechi gripped her hips, moaning quietly into her mouth as he came inside of her. He panted over her body, smiling when he felt her hands wrap around him, chocolate likely smearing on the back of his shirt. He didn’t mind.

 

“That was really sweet of you-“

 

“Wow.”


	9. marry me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TigerRaiken and FancyPotatocake requested the whole Magoro wedding shebang....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I MADE WEDDING MOODBOARDS... PLEASE LOOK AT THEM BECAUSE I didn't know anything about weddings before writing this fic. Obviously they're in the order of the engagement > wedding > honeymoon phase :-)
> 
>    
> Engagement  
>   
> Wedding
> 
>   
> Honeymoon
> 
>  

There was an important meeting at Leblanc and Makoto was dreading it. When it came to the entire group meeting all at once, there was usually something amiss or a terrible idea brewing. She glanced down at her watch once, rain splattering on her umbrella as she stood across the way from Leblanc eyeing from the outside if it was a good idea to enter. Unfortunately for her, rain stained the windows making it difficult to peer in as she had hoped. Sighing to herself, she looked down again at her watch wondering if time had progressed at all before beginning to walk over. Akechi would be late, she figured. It was becoming more and more usual after they bought their house together. In a way, it might explain her gloomy mood as of late, but it didn’t particularly change the fact that he was still late. Long nights at the office made a wreck of their schedule where he’d come home during the day to catch up on sleep while she was away at work. They always seemed to miss one another. 

  


If there was one thing Akechi was particularly good at though, it would be the promptness of his phone calls every night to her at midnight. Makoto was like clockwork, and he soon learned to be the same to follow after her. She’d be nested in bed by that time, curled into the covers and shivering until the temperature of the blanket became warm enough to heat her up. She’d stay up on her phone for a few moments, tiring her eyes out before she’d slip into sleep. His voice made it easier for her, she found. The softness of his words reached her from the other end as she imagined him next to her, sighing whenever he’d make an empty promise to come home on time the next day. He’d chuckle, asking her if she doubted him in which case, the answer was always yes. Akechi told her he loved her, voice sure and sullen like the first time he told her, and depending on her mood, she’d reply in equivalence or blink back the tears that pricked her eyes from missing her husband. Either way, she’d fall asleep with thoughts of him, knowing he loved her. 

  


Perhaps he wouldn’t make it in time to meet their friends either. 

  


The soft jingle of Leblanc notified her friends spread on their usual table to turn and look to her. Futaba notably frowned at the absence of the annoying detective.

  


“Where’s Akechi?” she asked for everyone else.

  


“Late, I presume,” Makoto said nonchalantly, “I wouldn’t wait up for him if this is urgent.”

  


“No! It won’t work if he’s not here-”

  


“Shut up, Inari!” Futaba hushed. 

  


“... What’s going on?” Makoto asked hesitantly.

  


“We wanted to tell you guys something,” Ann replied, “Does this mean we have to reschedule?”

  


“Ugh, just tell her without Akechi,” Ryuji said lazily, “It’s not like it’ll make a difference or anything.”

  


“Yes it does, Ryuji!” Ann shot back.

  


“What’s the whole point of this if they’re not both here?!” Futaba cried.

  


Sojiro had dismissed himself earlier into the kitchen, and he was suddenly very grateful that he had.

  


“Five minutes and I’m spilling it,” Yusuke announced.

  


“No! You can’t! We all worked so hard on this,” Haru pleaded, “It won’t be fair to Akechi and it’d definitely ruin the-”

  


“Surprise!” Futaba screamed.

  


Makoto raised her brow for a moment until she realized that all eyes had averted away from her to look at the door behind her. The silhouette of said detective had arrived, and with no umbrella for that matter. The knob turned as it had only a few minutes earlier, and he waltzed in, soaking wet.

  


“Hi. Sorry I’m late,” he said apologetically, slipping out of the blazer he wore, “What did I miss?”

  


“You’re late!” Futaba called him out.

  


“Yes, I apologized for that already,” he reminded her.

  


“Well, who wants to do the honors?” Akira asked.

  


Everyone went silent for a moment. This gave Akechi the opportunity to slip his arms around Makoto’s waist, pulling her close to him. She grimaced as she gave him the cold shoulder, fully intending on ignoring him even as he made his usual public displays of affection to show her that he had missed her. For some reason, it was only apparent to the small population of their friends that Makoto wasn’t particularly happy about his arrival.

  


“I think Yusuke should,” Haru said quietly, “He sold those paintings after all.”

  


“Haru, you’re the only one who could’ve made this possible and you know that,” Ann told her gently. 

  


“Hardly-”

  


“Yeah! Haru you do it,” Ryuji agreed.

  


Everyone around the table nodded, waiting for her impatiently to make the announcement. 

  


“I’m not doing it,” she said firmly.

  


“... Okay, fine, fine. So we-” Ryuji started to speak.

  


“We planned a wedding for you guys!” Ann interrupted.

  


Makoto was dumbfounded, torn between being ice cold towards Akechi and complete, utter shock. She had no idea what to say. Akechi on the other hand, smirked, raising his brow impressed at the feat. 

  


“So how did you do it?” he asked nonchalantly.

  


“W-wait. You are moving way too fast,” Makoto said, turning around to face him. 

  


“Makoto, we’re already married,” he reminded her.

  


She grimaced and self-consciously clenched her left hand, hiding the very expensive, very heavy diamond from view. He smirked at her response, knowing very well that if the two of them were alone, he’d prod her about her reluctance in recognizing that she belonged to him. 

  


“I was able to sell some of my paintings at the art exhibition a few months ago,” Yusuke explained, “I made pretty good money off of that but-”

  


“Yeah, yeah, we know how hard it was to not spend it,” Futaba rolled her eyes, “I’ve been managing a ton of the logistics for you guys, so don’t worry about a thing! Guest list, check. Wedding registry, check-”

  


“And you remember the photographer I worked with for one of my modeling gigs? I asked if they could give you guys a photoshoot in exchange for some work. Pretty cool, huh?” Ann chimed in.

  


“... Ryuji?” Haru asked.

  


“Psh, I did nothing. It was hardly- ow!” 

  


Akira nudged him. 

  


“... I took up some hours with Iwai. Same with this guy,” he said in embarrassment, motioning to Akira, “You wouldn’t believe how much he pays for just following him around to random ass places.”

  


“I’m pretty sure you’re an undercover drug dealer. You just don’t know it,” Ann frowned at him.

  


“Eh, whatever. It still wasn’t a big deal if you consider how much Haru’s bringing to the table.”

  


“Listen. Everyone,” Makoto finally spoke, “Thank you, really. For all of your planning and thoughtfulness but… Goro and I are already married. We didn’t want a wedding for a reason and-”

  


“That’s why we planned it for you guys,” Akira said, smiling.

  


“Even then, with how convoluted our schedules already are and-”

  


Makoto was close to announcing to her friends how rare it was for Akechi to come home to her as is. 

  


“How are we even going to have time to fit in a wedding in between work and… work,” she muttered, running out of excuses.

  


“Makoto,” came Akechi’s voice behind her, “You know the only reason I didn’t try to push a wedding on you. That and I had already used up all my energy trying to convince your sister.”

  


“Ohh, how cute,” Ann beamed.

  


“I’m the one who didn’t want a wedding? You agreed with me, in fact, you’re the one who brought it up,” Makoto pointed out.

  


“I brought it up because I knew you wouldn’t want one,” he reminded her.

  


“Why are you pinning this back on me?” she accused.

  


“I’m not pinning anything on you,” he shot back.

  


“Uh oh. Lover’s quarrel.”

  


\------

  


The date was set for mid September, much to Makoto’s dismay. Makoto’s dismay only meant Akechi’s as well. In the end, Akechi agreed to take time off on the important days - food tasting, wine tasting, the photoshoot, whatever else Haru and Ann had in store for them. Makoto had a feeling they were all living vicariously through the thought of throwing her a wedding, but she nodded in the end in acceptance. Futaba showed them the lengthy list of spreadsheets and documents she had in the works, detailing who was coming, their addresses for mail invites, the whole shebang. Makoto couldn’t help but wince at all the hard work that had been put in, and even then, she felt like she was getting cold feet with the wedding being months away. 

  


Ryuji had swung his arm around Akechi’s neck, brewing in excitement as he went on and on about the bachelor’s party they were throwing for him. Interestingly enough, it was the one thing he politely declined in exchange for going through with the wedding. The poor blonde received a lengthy scolding from Ann following that. Mona purred excitedly on Akira’s lap as the scene unfolded before them both, relishing in the moment that he could be surrounded by familiar faces once more since the end of high school. 

  


They said their goodbyes following the plan to meet up next time, but not before Makoto mentioned shyly that she wanted Sae to be the one to walk her down the aisle. Futaba threw her a thumbs up, letting her know she’d already extracted the prosecutor’s information and work schedule so that she’d be free to attend the wedding. Suddenly, Makoto wished she never asked. 

  


The rain had stopped when the jingle from the bell was heard again, and the door closed behind Makoto and Akechi. She made an attempt to part ways without saying goodbye. He grabbed her hand, hoping she’d turn around on her own to slap him or something,  _ anything _ . He hated when she was like this, though he couldn’t help but deny that this was part of the reason he had started to slowly and inevitably fall in love with her.

  


He spun her around and held her still between his arms. 

  


“You’re upset with me.”

  


“I had no idea,” she replied sarcastically, attempting to wiggle out of his grasp.

  


“I was late, I’m sorry.”

  


“It’s fine. You’re busy. There was nothing important in that meeting anyways,” she said in all honesty.

  


“Not important? Are you implying our marriage isn’t important?” he asked.

  


“Maybe I am,” she said coldly.

  


“When I asked you to marry me, it was a promise. You should know I don’t make promises I don’t intend on keeping,” he said lowly.

  


“You haven’t been particularly keeping up with them,” Makoto said cryptically.

  


“I’m not coming home enough often, hm?” 

  


“No-”

  


“Yes.”

  


Makoto knew she was no match for him when it came to who’d break first. She just wasn’t built for that sort of thing - she was much more transparent than him and he was relentless when he wanted to win. 

  


“What if I came home more often?” he suggested.

  


“I know you wouldn’t want to-”

  


“Why do you say that? Of course I want to,” he frowned at her, “Has it occurred to you that I love you?”

  


“Yes, you say it everyday-”

  


“But do you know that I mean it?” 

  


Makoto did. In her heart, she knew all of that. She’d picked up some of her stubbornness as of late from Sae.

  


“I’m going home,” she announced quietly, implying that he should release her.

  


“Oh, good. So am I,” he responded happily.

  


“You have to get back to work.”

  


“Are you trying to get rid of me?” 

  


“Yes.”

  


\------

  


Makoto grumbled to herself when she took the wrong line to get to the dress store. Not only was she taking precious overtime off, she’d declined the request to meet at Leblanc with Ann and Haru before they went to the store together. Big mistake. She huffed to herself, standing still in the middle of the quiet street as she took a deep breath. How she wished that she was home so she could scream into her pillow. Better yet, maybe she’d ditch going to look at dresses entirely so that she could go hit a punching bag at the gym.

  


A few more mistake turns, and she spotted the puff of pink hair and long twintails belonging only to Haru and Ann. She sighed, picking up her pace as they waved to her.

  


“Sorry I’m late,” she said, catching her breath.

  


“Hmm. Taking after Akechi I see?” Ann teased.

  


Makoto didn’t like that and visibly frowned.

  


“Oh come on, you don’t wanna be frowning like that before your photoshoot in a few weeks,” Ann giggled, pulling on her arm.

  


“Guys. I really hate this,” Makoto announced.

  


“We know. That’s why we love you,” Haru said softly.

  


Makoto sighed again. She’d been doing a lot of that lately. 

  


The store was plastered from wall to wall with long, white dresses. Makoto had never seen so much white in her life - the feeling similar to that of a doctor’s office almost. She felt sick and dizzy, but admittedly, nervous. A chirpy girl with the widest smile came to greet Haru as if they were old friends, hugging her and exclaiming with excitement fully anticipating the wedding dress to be for her.

  


“Haruuuuuu!” she screamed.

  


It was going to be a long fitting. She went on to compliment Ann for her looks, asking her what her schedule was like in hopes that she’d potentially do some modeling for their next wedding lookbook. Thankfully, Ann had declined and the attention returned to Haru once more before the girl finally remembered where she worked.

  


“All right, who’s getting married?” she eyed them both excitedly, willing to take either one of them.

  


“Makoto is,” Haru replied, grabbing hold of Makoto’s shoulders who had hidden behind the two of them and brought her into view. 

  


The girl visibly frowned.

  


“Oh, Haru… I was so excited for a second there thinking you’d found someone. Makoto, was it?” she asked, excitement levels dropping by the second.

  


She turned her around, grimacing as she took in her figure at a glance. Makoto had worn dress pants and three-quarter sleeved dress shirt with a belt around her waist - not necessarily the most flattering outfit when she stood next to Ann and Haru. The girl took out her measuring tape from out of thin air and began to take in her measurements, lifting Makoto’s arms up without permission. She squeaked when she felt the measuring tape wrap around her bust, and then the small of her waist, then down to her hips.

  


“Well, lucky you. You’re a perfect size 2, which means we’ll have to do very little to the dress itself,” the tailor said in relief.

  


“It’s okay, I wasn’t really looking to buy a dress,” Makoto said sheepishly, “So, even if it doesn’t fit me I’m sure I can make it work for a few hours.”

  


“Makoto…” Ann cried, “You don’t have to worry about any of that. Let’s just go look at some dresses, okay?”

  


Before she knew it, Makoto found herself wrangled into the fitting room. The tailor sifted through some of the more ‘boring’ dresses, laying them out on a long table for them to look at.

  


“I like this one! There’s a ton of lace and I love the sweetheart neckline!” Ann exclaimed, fingers running down the lace of the front part of the dress.

  


“The what now-”

  


“Hmm… Do you think she’ll fit into that?” the tailor inquired, “It’s pretty hard for most girls to pull that off unless you’ve got the perfect proportions.”

  


“Well, didn’t you say yourself? She’s a perfect size 2,” Haru reminded her.

  


“I think something more traditional would suit her best,” she continued.

  


Makoto raised a brow, wondering what she meant. 

  


“Well, no point in just staring at the dresses on the rack. Makoto, why don’t you try them on?” Haru gestured. 

  


Makoto nodded reluctantly, finding her way into the fitting room to free her of her clothes. She stepped out when she was finished, neatly folding her clothes into a pile. The tailor gave her a perplexed look, eyeing the sports bra and compression shorts that she’d worn underneath.

  


“... Why am I not surprised?”

  


“Excuse me?”

  


“First dress!” 

  


She handed Makoto the heavy dress, tulle everywhere. Watching Haru and Ann’s facial expressions made her realize that it didn’t suit her. 

  


“Kinda… frumpy don’t you think?” Haru pondered, noticing that the waist of the dress didn’t particularly sit well with Makoto’s tiny figure.

  


“It’s kinda cute though,” Ann disagreed, “I feel like it could work if her hair was longer. How do you feel about extensions?”

  


“No,” Makoto said firmly.

  


“Okay fine. Next dress then,” Ann motioned to the tailor.

  


Makoto slipped out of the bulky dress, happy to be free of the tulle scratching her skin. The next was a mermaid style one, and the moment she had slipped it onto her body, she knew she was going to have a very hard time getting out of it.

  


“Guys…”

  


“Makoto! That looks nice!” 

  


“I can’t… feel my legs?” 

  


“I love the little ruffled sleeves!”

  


“Guys! Can I get out of this one, please? I literally won’t be able to walk down the aisle like this.”

  


Ann and Haru looked over at the tailor who wished she had something more important to tend to. Haru began to unzip Makoto out of her dress.

  


“Okay, how about this,” Makoto started, “I want sleeves. None of that… itchy stuff-”

  


“Tulle?”

  


“Yeah that. Something modest, if possible.”

  


The tailor looked at her for a moment, contemplating deep in thought about her request before waltzing over to the other side of the wall to pull one off the hangers. She paused for a moment before dismissing herself to find one in Makoto’s size. 

  


“Can I… be honest with you both?” Makoto said nervously.

  


“You’re nervous about the wedding?” Haru replied.

  


“Obviously, but… I’m glad you guys are doing this for us but… Goro and I haven’t been getting along that well as of late,” she said, touching her arm self-consciously.

  


“... You guys are fighting?” Ann asked.

  


“Kind of. Well. It’s just a difference of opinion, I suppose,” Makoto said, thinking back to their brush at Leblanc.

  


“You two always had a difference in opinion,” Haru laughed quietly, “I’m not surprised you two started dating because of it.”

  


“I don’t know if this is the  _ final _ rift that causes us to… break up?” Makoto said.

  


“You guys are married!” Ann said indignantly.

  


“People get divorced, you know,” Makoto said hesitantly.

  


“Makoto, if a wedding is only going to bring out the problems in your… relationship, then maybe it’s time to reassess some things?” Haru suggested.

  


“... Reassess?”

  


“I don’t think a wedding is going to make your marriage fall apart.  _ People _ are the ones that make marriages fall apart,” she told her.

  


Makoto thought about what she said, knowing deep in her heart that even though Akechi hadn’t been around as much as she would’ve liked, she still loved him with every fiber of her being. Would she be devastated if they divorced? She wondered if she even knew the feeling at all.

  


The tailor returned with a dress that left the girls stunned. Lace swallowed the neckline, hiding a sweetheart bodice underneath it with similar sleeves to match. Makoto felt her eyes widen at the dress.

  


“Oh… my god,” Ann breathed.

  


\------

  


Akechi frowned when he was presented with a hefty, five course meal sampler along with a poorly written out menu in the writing of what could only be Yusuke’s. 

  


“Calbee.. Jagariko. As an appetizer. Why am I not surprised?”

  


“It’s both budget-friendly  _ and  _ delicious-”

  


“I don’t know about delicious, and I’m the one who eats chips all the time,” Futaba frowned in return.

  


“This menu includes a taco bar as the main course,” Akechi said slowly.

  


“Economical!” Yusuke declared.

  


“Please,” the detective sighed, rubbing his temples, “Please tell me that you have a backup menu.”

  


“But of course!” Futaba chimed, “You thought I’d let this guy ruin your once in a lifetime event with shitty food? Of course not!” 

  


“I’m not tasting the rest of this then if there’s another menu,” Akechi said firmly, “This is kind of awful. And I’ve tasted Sae’s cooking before.”

  


Yusuke groaned at the response, hurt to the core as the servers ushered away the first set of dishes. The next set of plates to sample were much more up to speed with what Akechi knew Makoto probably wanted.

  


“You know, I had to take time off work for this. Not that I’m blaming either one of you, by the way.”

  


“It sounds like you are,” Yusuke pointed out.

  


“It doesn’t change that I agreed to meet you two for the food tasting. Still, it’s a little weird without Makoto here,” Akechi said, suspiciously eyeing one of the what appeared to be spicier dishes.

  


“Why? I thought you guys rarely see each other,” Futaba said nonchalantly, taking a huge bite of the lobster sample.

  


“... How did you know that?”

  


“Obvious.”

  


“Lobster, Futaba?! We can’t afford this!” Yusuke cried, mouth watering at the sight of the expensive dishes in front of him.

  


“It’s well within the budget,” she told him casually, “If you don’t want to eat it, Yusuke, then don’t. It’s more for everyone else.”

  


“Gah… to think that I merely sold my paintings for…  _ lobster _ .” 

  


The artist gave in, biting into the meat as if he had been starving the entire time. He was gone and non-respondent the rest of the tasting. 

  


“Why was it obvious?” Akechi asked carefully, bringing back the previous topic.

  


“I can sense when women are cold. She kinda reminds me of my mom,” Futaba grinned.

  


“Maybe she was cold to the idea of the wedding entirely,” he suggested.

  


“Maybe. But she totally tensed up when you came in, dude. I saw it with my own four eyes!” 

  


“... I think she’s upset that I haven’t been around lately,” he pondered, “She’s ought to understand, I’m sure.”

  


“I’m sure she does,” Futaba agreed, “Doesn’t mean she has to like it.”

  


“You’re correct on that. Regardless, I attempted to make it up to her and apologize, and yet-”

  


“Are you really apologizing if you haven’t changed anything, though? Don’t get me wrong, I don’t know jack about marriage or dating but… Akira and I argue all the time! Come to think of it, you and Makoto are more like siblings than-”

  


“No, we’re not.”

  


“Yes, you are,” Yusuke muttered through a full mouth.

  


Akechi picked at his food with his fork before putting it down.

  


“It’s strange having this be the topic of conversation. I suppose food has this magic of bringing out the worst in people,” Akechi surmised, “I’m happy with this menu.”

  


“Oh, come on. Just say what’s on your mind! It was one of the reasons you  _ almost _ lost Makoto, isn’t it?” 

  


Akechi froze at Futaba’s remark, mind whirring as he recalled the painful memories of Akira and Makoto spending time together back when they went to Shujin. He had long rejected those memories, and yet, it was being talked about so casually amongst his  _ friends _ .

  


“Perhaps.”

  


“Not perhaps,” Yusuke pointed out, “It did happen.”

  


“That’s confidential.”

  


“Your feelings were on full display,” Futaba sighed, “Maybe it’s hard to read for people like Ryuji but you didn’t fool me for a second. Look, even Yusuke picked up on it.”

  


“I was more aware of what Makoto was feeling at the time. Nonetheless, what I’m sensing is a lack of communication between you both.”

  


“... Communication? But I call her every night,” Akechi frowned.

  


“So? Do you guys talk about anything? Do you work through your problems? You’re a detective, how about some proof or whatever that you’re trying?” 

  


Akechi pondered what she was saying for a moment, never realizing that such tactics could apply to romance. Then again, he approached the methodology of dating Makoto in a very logical way. She did as well. 

  


“DESSERT!” Futaba yelled when the final course had arrived. 

  


“You might want to ask Makoto about this one. I’m not too fond of dessert so I’m unsure of what’s suitable for the guests,” Akechi grimaced, feeling a bit sick from the heavy amount of sampling he’d just done.

  


“I WANT A FULL DESSERT BAR! Like that one buffet place Ann took me to once!” Futaba declared.

  


“I agree,” Yusuke said thoughtfully, “You know that Ann would be on board with this one as well.”

  


Akechi sighed, knowing very well he’d likely miss the window of his lunch break to return back to work.

  


\------

  


The hands on Makoto’s watched ticked past 10:02, and that’s when she decided she’d try out the technique of patience. when it reached 10:08, she felt the weed of impatience grow back in place. Only when she noticed a taxi whiz by quickly before forcing itself into a complete stop, and Akechi had rolled out of the car, did she start to feel bad. 

  


“I’m late, I know. I’m sorry, Makoto,” he said out of breath.

  


Makoto looked down for a brief moment, rolling the cuts and edges of the diamond on her finger in one rotation before looking up at him.

  


“Let’s go,” she said quietly, knowing very well that they were already much later than anticipated.

  


They walked into the luxurious building, greeted by the workers at the winery before they were ushered downstairs into the basement. Alone in the elevator, Akechi didn’t dare to lock eyes with Makoto. Out of fear of rejection, his hand hesitated from grabbing hers to seek her forgiveness. He heard her sigh once before she reached for his hand to intertwine her fingers with his, ensuring that it was left so he could feel the ring on her finger. He felt his heart pound for the first time in months when they arrived down in the basement, his hand in hers. 

  


“Took you guys long enough,” Ryuji spouted, “You really are late all the time.”

  


“Sorry, but I suppose that doesn’t change the fact that I am late,” Akechi said apologetically, words intended for Makoto much more than Ryuji.

  


“Whatever. ‘Kira’s up ahead. I  _ really _ hope he’s not drunk already because he decided he’d start with ‘ya.” 

  


“Understandable,” Makoto chimed in.

  


Akechi couldn’t help but frown, wondering if that was a return jab back at him. His previous conversation with Futaba returned in his mind, conjuring up a sense of jealousy that he hadn’t particularly felt with Makoto in a long while since he relinquished the idea of Akira having feelings for her.

  


Akira waved at them when they walked towards him, with him who appeared to be the sommelier with a platter of different wines already planned out for them.

  


“Just so you know, I really recommend the red wine for your wedding,” Akira told them both.

  


“Will that go well with the food? Didn’t you pick out the menu the other day, Goro?” Makoto asked.

  


“I did. I’m sure red would be fine. Do you want a taste? It’ll mostly be for the guests but-”

  


“Don’t mind if I do-”

  


“Wait, aren’t you doing your photoshoot later today? You sure you wanna be all red and stuff for that?” Ryuji reminded her.

  


“It’s fine. I don’t drink very often so I doubt I’ll get drunk,” Makoto replied, downing the sample of the red wine in one gulp.

  


“Uh…. Not sure that’s how it works but-”

  


“I love it. Is there more?” Makoto asked.

  


“You’re only allowed to pick three. Make sure you  _ really, really _ like it,” Akira reminded her.

  


“I am very good at choosing,” she frowned.

  


Akechi gulped down the same glass, grimacing at the taste that his wife had. He didn’t speak his mind, grateful that she was at least a participant in their wedding to come. Makoto grew excited, tasting all the expensive wines in the cellar with no repercussion as she thought about the few things she knew about wine thanks to Sae. Ryuji watched with mouth ajar as he watched his last year’s worth of earnings go down the drain - even worse, Akira was joining her. And of course, Akechi had to keep up. 

  


“You don’t have three you like, do you?” Akira teased her.

  


Makoto let out a long giggle, holding onto Akechi for stability as she visibly displayed the effects of the equivalent of one glass of wine.

  


“Makoto, I think you should stop,” Akechi said lowly, the slightest amount of jealousy seeping into his voice.

  


“We haven’t picked yet,” she whined, losing balance as she chugged another quickly.

  


Akechi glanced at the sommelier, motioning that she’d had enough and the man nodded quickly before retreating.

  


“We’re going with a red, white and rose. Random. She needs to get ready for her photoshoot before she passes out,” Akechi told them.

  


“Damn… She really is a lightweight, huh?” Ryuji sighed, “Go, get her to her photoshoot. I don’t want Ann yellin’ at me because I’m keeping you.”

  


Akechi nodded before ushering his wife back upstairs. 

  


“Random, really? You never let me pick what I want,” Makoto pouted at him as he held her still in the elevator.

  


“I let you have everything you want,” he sighed longingly, pulling at the strands of her hair back into place.

  


“You do,” Makoto agreed, giggling.

  


She smiled up at him in a daze and Akechi couldn’t help but stare in return. They were alone, and he kissed her for the first time in weeks. She returned with equal fervor, pulling at his blazer as if intending to be taken right inside the elevator. When he pulled away, he could hear the small gasp and whine from her mouth - enough for him to feel the ache in his own heart from missing her so. It was all he needed to know that she still wanted him at the very least. Love would be something that they’d discuss later. 

  


\------

  


“Makoto! Your face is all red!” Haru exclaimed.

  


“What happened?!” 

  


“... Wine tasting,” Akechi answered for her, “She’ll sober up. I stopped and got her some vitamins before we came here.”

  


“I thought we could forgo foundation but looks like she’ll need it,” Ann pouted, “Let’s go.”

  


“W-wait! I’m not ready!” Makoto cried.

  


“What are you talking about?! You have to be ready! There’s photographers waiting for you,” Ann told her.

  


“I… I can’t do this.”

  


“Makoto, it’s only a photoshoot,” Haru said, “It’s not even the wedding yet.”

  


“Yes, that’s what I mean! The wedding!”

  


Everyone around was silent as they watched her struggle with her nervousness. Akechi felt his heart rip in half in response. Ann glanced up at him sympathetically before they rushed her in to get dressed. He felt a hand on his shoulder, only hoping that it wasn’t Akira. 

  


It was, unfortunately.

  


“Wasn’t there some study that people are the most honest when they’re drunk?” Akechi asked, feigning his curiosity in place of his broken heart.

  


“Kind of.”

  


Akechi nodded before retreating into the other half of the studio to get dressed. In the midst of putting on his suit, he found himself staring at the mirror. It really had been a long time since he even gave a second thought to things as trivial as looking in the mirror. He wondered if it was the same in his neglect for Makoto. When he had finished dressing, both Ryuji and Yusuke expressed their impatience and practically shoved him out of the door to where Makoto was already.

  


The scenery was set out for them, and he was glad that they’d be shooting outside rather than in. He’d spent too much of his time in TV studios to the point of trigger. From behind, he could see Makoto in the distance out in the fields in a white dress with a long train and veil. Haru and Ann both made visual cues for her to turn around, and she did. Akechi felt his heart seize up when he laid eyes on her, every flow of emotion he’d ever felt towards her - anger, love, passion, regret, agony, pain, reluctance - he felt all of it at once when she turned and smiled at him. In that moment, he would’ve sworn that if they’d been reincarnated, he’d find a way to find her once again and marry her all the same. 

  


“Hi,” she said shyly when he arrived within her vicinity, unwilling to deny for even a moment that he looked as dashing as she did beautiful.

  


“I want you to know,” he said in a bare whisper before leaning close to her ear, “If you weren’t all done up in your makeup, I would’ve kissed you and taken you right here.” 

  


“It’s too bad I am,” she responded boldly, blush either from embarrassment or wine seeping through her cheeks. 

  


“Oh, I’m going to cry,” Ann said quietly, looking upon the fruits of her labor.

  


The photographer requested the usual cute wedding poses, interestingly, they were all ones that required them to look away from each other. Akira smiled to himself when he noticed that it was very easy for Akechi to make her smile in the midst of their shoot even when the requests were lame and cheesy. Part of him hoped that it was mostly the alcohol, but near the middle of their shoot, it was obvious they were authentic. 

  


The final pose, Haru asked for bridal carry. Makoto flushed at the request, immediately voicing her rejection of the idea only to be cut off by Akechi promptly picking her up off her feet and into his arms with ease.

  


“Perfect!” the photographer called out, “Hold it just like that for a few seconds.”

  


Makoto was nervous again, clutching onto Akechi like he was some stranger. Only when she looked up in his eyes, did she sense a familiar feeling. The same rush that she’d encountered when she told him she loved him for the first time came, and she looked into his eyes as she did the first time they had kissed. It was a strange feeling, encountering it years after the butterflies had gone away. He smiled down at her softly, leaning close to kiss her. Makoto suddenly realized the butterflies had never left. 

  


\------

  


The wedding day arrived quicker than anticipated. Makoto spun the ring on her finger once, and then twice before placing it into the ring box that Akechi had given her a year back. She looked at herself in the mirror, hardly recognizing herself. Sae arrived, placing her hand on her shoulder as she gazed upon her little sister in the mirror with her.

  


“Are you ready?”

  


“No.”

  


“You will be,” Sae said, patting her on her head as she usually did, “I could’ve stopped all of this, you know.”

  


Makoto looked up at her for explanation.

  


“He asked me. I can’t believe I never told you this. That one week you went on vacation, remember?” 

  


“... The one in Kyoto?”

  


“Yeah. He came by and asked me if he could marry you,” Sae said, smiling warmly, “Obviously I said no. I think if I pushed harder than he did, I could’ve probably scared him off.”

  


Makoto reached out for her sister’s hand, holding onto it tightly.

  


“I’m glad you didn’t say no,” she told Sae. 

  


“Me too.”

  


Makoto raised off the seat, flipped the veil over her face and looked at her sister again.

  


“Just for the record, I really didn’t want this,” she announced, loud enough for her eager bridesmaids to hear.

  


They took it as their cue to rush onto the stage along with the groomsmen. 

  


“But you’re here now. You should enjoy it for what it is. Friends that clearly love you both very much put this all together for you,” Sae reminded her.

  


“And I can’t be anything but grateful,” Makoto agreed.

  


“Let’s do this.”

  


The music blared at full volume in tandem with the organ, almost on time with the pounding in Akechi’s heart. Once again, he felt the hand of Akira, his best man, on his shoulder briefly before Makoto stepped out in view. The dress was on full display for everyone to see, her hair done up in in soft curls with her signature braid around the back of her head. It wasn’t until he saw the soft, shy smile on her lips did he realize that he felt tears prick his eyes. 

  


Sae made her way down to the alter with her arm around Makoto’s, wondering how the universe ended up in such a way that she could still be grateful walking her down the aisle instead of watching from the rows of seats. She saw Akechi blink back tears, and she looked away for a moment, feeling strange that her little sister was marrying the high school kid that worked alongside her many years ago. She likely wouldn’t have had it any other way. 

  


Makoto put her hand in Akechi’s only after gripping onto Sae once more for strength. Mona made his way down the aisle to follow before being chased after by Futaba. The sight calmed the crowd before they proceeded with the ceremony. 

  


They opted for a non-religious wedding - words were exchanged briefly before they were prompted to read their vows. Akechi was asked to read his first. To much of everyone’s surprise, he had memorized his vows.

  


“I, Akechi Goro, take you, Niijima Makoto, to be my wife to have and to hold from this day forward for better, or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health to love and to cherish from this day forward until death do us apart,” he told her. 

  


Makoto felt her heart soar, wondering when he had the time to remember his vows, or even the time to re-remember them. She was in shock, but every fiber of her being suddenly remembered why she married him. He really did promise her, after all. 

  


The officiant motioned to Makoto to read her vows. Everyone was silent as she sobbed visibly at the alter, wondering how she could’ve forgotten his promise to her when she’d made the same one in return. There was a sullen clap when he went to grab her hand, heart stopped as he wondered if this was her cue to run away. She finally laughed, looking up to him as she repeated her vows from memory. 

  


They’d been so engulfed in one-upping each other - perhaps they had never considered that they couldn’t ever win with one another because they were equals.

  


“I, Niijima Makoto,” she started softly, murmuring words between her tears, “take you, Akechi Goro, to be my husband, my partner in life and my one true love. I will cherish our union and love you more each day than I did the day before. I will trust you and respect you, laugh with you and cry with you, love you faithfully through good times and bad, regardless of the obstacles that we may face together.”

  


The officiant looked to the both of them.

  


“Do you give your hand and your love from this day forward for as long as you shall both live?”

  


“I do,” Akechi said with no hesitation.

  


Makoto held onto his hand, forgoing any of the ceremony to leap into his arms.

  


“I do,” she said, kissing him even before being allowed to.

  


The officiant rolled his eyes with a smirk before saying the usual “you may kiss the bride.” Akechi kissed her in return, returning her excitement as he held her close in his arms. He may never let go.

  


\------

  


The festivities proceeded as normal. 

  


“I wish we got the Calbees instead,” Yusuke pouted.

  


“No one would’ve eaten except you, asshole!” Ryuji proclaimed.

  


“Exactly! That’s a meal for a month,” Yusuke argued.

  


“Yikes. Don’t come near me if that’s all you’re going to eat for a month, Yusuke,” Ann frowned.

  


“I’m glad Akechi went with this menu though,” Haru piped up, “Part of me felt like he would’ve went with yours for convenience sake.”

  


“What’s wrong with mine?!” Yusuke cried.

  


“Guys! It’s dance time,” Futaba whispered in awe.

  


Makoto and Akechi had taken the dance floor, the bride shy suddenly at the amount of whistling and loud cheering from the crowd. They were both surprised to see people they didn’t even know in the crowds, suddenly realizing that the both of them hardly knew anyone outside of their usual friend group. They were likely friends of their friends, happy and fully willing to come to a wedding with an open bar. An unfamiliar song echoed and the both of them turned to one another.

  


“Don’t tell me you forgot how to dance,” Akechi egged her.

  


“Never,” she smirked in return, reaching up to hold his shoulder as he reached for her waist.

  


Makoto looked up at him for a moment before she started speaking honestly.

  


“I’m not good with words,” she whispered loud enough for him to hear.

  


“I know,” he agreed, “I would say I’m the same but I’m at least better.”

  


“I won’t disagree with that,” Makoto said.

  


They were silent for a moment.

  


“I put in a request to change departments,” he told her.

  


“Which department?” she asked.

  


“One closer to the police station,” he smiled, “Closer to you.”

  


“... You liked working at the Diet.”

  


“I did. But not as much as I liked spending time with you. They acknowledged my request actually. I don’t start for a few months.”

  


“... So, I’m the breadwinner?” Makoto asked impishly.

  


“If you want to be. I was thinking we’d go away for a while,” he suggested, “ A long while.”

  


“Forever?” 

  


“It could be forever, if you wanted. We could make it work,” he smirked.

  


“You know I’m married to my work,” she snided.

  


“Not before your marriage to me, remember? You said it yourself earlier. You’d ‘love me more each day than the day before?’ he reminded her.

  


“Where would we go?” she asked curiously.

  


“Wherever you wanted. I made my promise to you. ‘Until death do us apart.’"

  


“... They’re just words.”

  


“I can see why you’re awful with them.”

  


“Is it even possible to love someone more than the day before?” she frowned at him.

  


“I’ve found ways to do so,” he told her secretly.

  


“What does that mean?” she asked.

  


“It means I love you, Niijima Makoto.”

  


The song was nearing its end, loud claps were coming on as the singer reached her high note. Makoto held him close, her chin on his shoulder.

  


“I love you, Akechi Goro.”

  


\------

  


Both Akechi and Makoto agreed on a cake that was fit to feed the amount of guests coming. Futaba took that literally and brought out the whole shebang - tiers and tiers of wedding cake to feed the numerous amount of guests they hadn’t even realized were coming. Naturally, Makoto had to cut the cake, feed her husband, the whole deal. When he leaned forward to eat the cake from her hand, tongue licking her fingers, she knew she was in for a long night. 

  


The rest of the guests were none the wiser, relishing in the fact that they had a whole night ahead of them filled with music, alcohol, and dessert. They really did end up going with Futaba’s idea of a full range of desserts. Unfortunately for them, neither Makoto nor Akechi cared for it very much, and the groom found himself swindling his bride away for a brief moment. 

  


“I want you,” he groaned.

  


“I know,” Makoto rolled her eyes, “You’ve made it very obvious to our guests.”

  


“You’d be surprised how occupied they are right now in our absence. I think I could take you right here if I wanted to and they’d be none the wiser,” he told her seductively.

  


She sighed, feeling his lips on her neck for a brief moment before she pushed him off of her gently.

  


“You probably could, but you have all the time in the world for that later, hm?” 

  


“Is that a promise? A guarantee?” 

  


“Mmm… unless I pass out. I think I’m going to have more of that wine.” 

  


“I don’t trust you with alcohol,” Akechi said.

  


“That’s fine. It’s still my wedding,” she said impishly.

  


“You don’t want to spend time with your  _ loving _ , insatiable, needy husband?” he begged.

  


“I do, but then that means they’ll be spending hours wondering where the bride  _ and  _ groom have gone,” she told him sweetly.

  


“Later then. When this is all over. Promise me,” he said huskily, lips ghosting her jaw once more.

  


“I promise,” she sighed into his touch.

  


He released her and Makoto made her way back to the guests. 

  


To make matters worse, the guests suggested the game of the bride attempting to find the groom in a mix of male guests. Akechi immediately rejected the idea until both Yusuke and Ryuji pegged him as lame. He reluctantly released the hand of his bride, watching Ann blindfold her as she felt around the air for any sign of human life. 

  


Much to his dismay, Akechi found that one of the volunteers had been Akira and he volunteered himself onto the stage with the rest of the men, completely forgetting that he was a requirement. 

  


Makoto felt around for the guests before reaching out for the first man. When she felt the fabric of the suit, she recalled the press of Akechi to her body earlier and she moved onto the next. The guests gave a gleeful laugh at her response to the man. She did the same with the rest, eliciting a crowdful of happy laughs as they supported her in finding her groom. 

  


Akechi frowned when she made her way to Akira, feeling around for the body first. The best man placed his hands on her waist to mimic Akechi’s usual motions towards her, and Akechi could feel his jealous grow twofold when Makoto sighed a bit and reached for his face. Things had gone almost  _ too  _ far when Akira wrapped his arms around her waist, as she felt his face, nearly kissing who she thought to be her husband. Only when the crowd cried out in dismay did she frown and realize she was almost fooled, moving onto the next. 

  


Naturally, Akechi was last and she felt up his body. He closed his eyes as he leaned into her touch, in which she responded with equal excitement. He didn’t dare to put his hands on her like Akira had breeched earlier, only hoping that she’d recognize him from her touch alone. Akechi couldn’t take it anymore when she grabbed his hands, feeling for the ring she’d placed on him earlier. The crowd laughed in response to her response when her husband pulled away.

  


Akechi thought for a moment before grabbing hold of her waist like Akira had done earlier. Makoto went to feel his face, garnering little to no reaction from the man in front of her. Only when she found his sweet spot, the junction near the side of his neck, and he turned his neck to her touch, did she recognize her husband. She threw off her blindfold in one swift motion and jumped into the arms of Akechi. He smiled into her kiss, happy that she recognized him.

  


\------

  


The rest of the reception continued with little to no interruption from Akechi’s end, reigning triumphant in the mere fact that his wife could recognize him. Makoto made her way to her bridesmaids, properly thanking them for throwing their wedding together much to their dismay. 

  


“Did you have time to talk to him?” Ann asked lowly.

  


“... A little bit. I’m sure we have a lot more to talk about but…”

  


“Ohhhh, you’re blushing!” Futaba noticed, “What did he say?! I wanna know!”

  


“Nothing inappropriate,” Makoto hushed her, “He’s changing departments. We’re probably going to take some time to ourselves and travel. At least, I hope so.”

  


“How fun!” Haru chimed, “Things really did work out in the end.”

  


“I guess it was all thanks to this wedding,” Makoto couldn’t deny, “Thank you. All of you.”

  


Her friends beamed in return for her gratitude. Ann looked up first when another person had arrived to infiltrate the group. Akira put out his hand nonchalantly, as if intending to be received.

  


“May I have this dance?” he asked politely.

  


Makoto felt uncomfortable for a brief moment, remembering all the times that Akechi had willingly expressed his insecurities with Akira. She wondered how far this would go, and accepted his hand. As much as she hoped that Akechi wouldn’t see, she wanted him to know that he could trust her.

  


“I guess it’s official,” Akira said.

  


“It’s been official for a while,” Makoto chuckled to herself, “But yes. It is.”

  


“I hope you’re happy.”

  


“Thank you. I certainly am.”

  


“It didn’t seem that way when you both entered into Leblanc the first time we made the announcement. Is everything okay?”

  


“It was a lack of a communication,” Makoto replied, spinning herself back into his arms with noticeable distance, “It’s fine now.”

  


“Just fine.”

  


“We’re happy. We were always happy with each other. The necessities of life happened to get in the way of it,” she replied.

  


“You wouldn’t have had that with me,” Akira nudged her.

  


“Regardless of that, I’m happy I’m with Goro,” she replied firmly, “I hope you feel the same.”

  


“I do. More than you would believe,” he told her softly, “I let you go a long time ago.”

  


Makoto couldn’t help but be curious.

  


“And why’s that?”

  


“Because I knew I didn’t stand a chance.”

  


Makoto spent the rest of the dance smiling, happy she belonged to Akechi.

  


\------

  


The night ended after what felt like a literal eternity. Akechi sighed a breath of relief when Haru alerted him that they’d all need to evacuate so that those responsible for the party could break down everything. He was glad - he had to attend to his wife, after all. 

  


They’d both left on the cheesy “just married” note - only it was on Johanna, Makoto’s motorcycle. Akechi hopped on reluctantly as the crowd cheered, recognizing it was his first time on it. Makoto held him from behind, smiling to herself in hopes that he’d pull over halfway so that she could take over. She was surprised when he decided not to, driving them both home without danger or accident. 

  


When they arrived home, Makoto was surprised to see that much of her belongings had already been packed away in a suitcase. Before she could voice her concern, Akechi interrupted her.

  


“I knew what you’d want to bring. Anything else you’re missing, I’ll have someone send or we can buy along the way,” he told her.

  


“This… We really are going away?”

  


“I told your department about it. They approved with no hesitation,” he told her quietly, “Don’t be mad.”

  


“I’m not angry, Goro,” she told him quietly, reaching up to him to kiss him. 

  


He returned in equal fervor.

  


“Good. We’re leaving in a few days,” he mentioned.

  


“That’s fine by me,” she said.

  


“Then about that promise earlier,” he said lowly.

  


“Which one?” she asked innocently, “I stand by the one I did at the alter.”

  


“Even then, you’re at the mercy of my wishes,” he replied, “You said I’d have all the time in the world. Darling, I just quit my job, so it really is all the time in the world.”

  


Makoto gulped when he reached for his tie. He removed it in one seductive motion, ignoring her cries to wait any longer. Akechi counted in his mind the amount of days that he’d been gone from her reach, realizing it amounted to weeks. He hadn’t touched her for weeks, and it was finally catching up to him now that most of their issues at the forefront was forgiven.

  


“I want you,” he reminded her, “Don’t deny me of that.”

  


Makoto swallowed in his response to his plea, feeling his hands on the lace on her neck and undoing the buttons on the back.

  


“You want to know why I didn’t want a wedding?” he asked her with a smirk, undoing the buttons with ease.

  


“No, I don’t want to know,” she sighed when his mouth grazed her jaw.

  


“I knew I wouldn’t stand the sight of you in front of me in that dress of yours. So pure, innocent, and a promise that you’re to be mine, forever,” he sighed, pulling down the torso of the dress.

  


“Be gentle,” she hushed.

  


“I will. At first.”

  


He pulled down her dress down to the waist, revealing the lacy white bra set to match with it. He was thrown off, that was for certain. White suited her, he decided with no questions asked. The soft curls of her hair, the daintily placed makeup on her face, and then the lace of the lingerie underneath was enough to remind him what he had neglected for the last week.

  


“Do the rest for me,” he pleaded.

  


Makoto knew what he meant. She shimmied out of the rest of her dress, fully intending on returning the rental after their charade. Akechi swallowed when she stood before him, revealing her body in lingerie for the first time, a garter neglected of its usual purpose. His mouth salivated simply at the sight of her before him. He wouldn’t be an animal - after all, it was their wedding night - and he led her to the bedroom. 

  


Akechi pressed her down into the middle of the bed, eyeing her hungrily as if he was seeing her naked for the first time.

  


“You are… driving me crazy,” he told her.

  


“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” she replied.

  


“But it is. I have never seen you in lingerie like this,” he said quietly, mouth roaming to the straps of her bra.

  


Makoto let out a sigh of relief when she felt the push-up bra pull down from her bosom - the feeling was immediately replaced with Akechi’s lips upon her nipples, nipping and sucking to his heart’s content. His bride sighed, tentatively spreading her legs in hopes that he’d attend to her there as well. He noted the garter around her waist, leading down to the softness of her thighs, and he groaned.

  


“They knew what they were doing,” he said lowly.

  


“Huh?!” 

  


“Ann. Haru. They dressed you in this, right?”

  


“Yes?”

  


“It’s driving me crazy. Can I rip you out of it so I can make you mine?” he asked her in the softest, and desirable voice.

  


“Yes,” Makoto replied.

  


“Good.”   
  


She sighed into his touches when he dove down in between her legs, teeth pulling down the garter on her leg. Makoto could’ve sworn that she heard him curse inwardly when his fingers sought the core in between her legs. She moaned at his touch, feeling as if it’d been an eternity since he touched her.

  


“It’s been so long, Gorooo,” she whined, “Take me already.”

  


“In due time, my love,” he replied, kissing in between her legs, “I plan to savor you. We have all the time in the world after all.”

  


Makoto cried when he nipped at the flesh between her legs, teasing her in hopes that she’d anticipate more. His fingers replaced the nips of his teeth, palming her core as if expecting a response. She placated him with a low moan.

  


“I’ve… thought about you,” she admitted.

  


“Yes?”

  


“In your absensce.”

  


“Have I been gone for so long, my love?” he asked her.

  


“Yes. Too long. I touch myself like this,” she replied, slipping her fingers in between her fold as she idly cried out his name, eyes rolling into her skull, “I ache for you like this.”

  


“I’m so, so sorry,” he pleaded, “If I could only prove that I felt the same.”

  


He kissed in between her thighs, lips hesitant when he breathed onto her core, seeing her clit visibly twitch.

  


“I did, though. I felt it so much,” he admitted, “Let me show you.”

  


Makoto nodded, giving him permission. Akechi reached for her hand and pressed it to his heart for evidence. A moment longer, and she might have pulled away from embarrassment. He led her to the base of his cock, obviously twitching when she felt the throb of his desire pressed against her skin.

  


“Do you feel it?” he asked.

  


“Yes,” she breathed, “I do.”

  


“Will you let me feel you all around me?” he asked finally.

  


Makoto sighed, arching her body as a reply. Akechi took that as a yes before he leaned forward to claim her lips once more. It wasn’t long before he inserted himself into her, voice moaning as he claimed her body as his once and for all. He entered her gently, expecting that the time that he’d been away from her to tend to her needs had left her tighter than usual.

  


He was ecstatic when she was thoroughly wet, fingers winding in his hair as he entered inside of her. Makoto arched her back when he claimed her as if it was their first time. She cried in hopes that he’d continue his ministrations, fingers in her hair, his hands all over her body. He did just that. 

  


“Fuck, I should’ve come home more often,” he replied regrettably, “ Forgive me.”

  


“There’s… nothing to forgive,” she released, “Take me.”

  


“I am, my love.” 

  


Akechi thrust in and out of her with little to no consideration, relishing in the moment as he rode out his passions for the first time in weeks. How did he truly go for such a long time without claiming her? He recalled the daily calls he’d give her, whispering his love for her before he’d let her go to sleep, wishing so much that he was next to her. Perhaps he’d be buried deep within her, or maybe he’d simply enjoy the fact that he was near her. Their flesh to flesh made him recall finally how much he’d truly missed her, thrusting inside and out of her as Makoto cried out either his name, or a sound of content as he filled her. 

  


Makoto felt her husband do something for the first time - holding her close to him as he sulked into the sheets of their bed. She was on top of him, his cock fully engulfed by her cunt as she throbbed in tandem with his need. 

  


“W-what are you doing to me?” 

  


“Ride me,” he demanded, “I want to feel you.”

  


Makoto did just that, closing her eyes as she imagined the many nights she’d spent alone imagining Akechi beneath her. How did he know? 

  


She moved back and forth on his cock, feeling the tip of him hit her G spot over and over again in a way she could’ve never imagined save for dreams and fantasies. And here he was, gripping at her breast as she rode him to her heart’s desire. She notified him of her orgasm, her movements of grinding closer picking up as she saw his eyes roll back.

  


“Are you close, Goro?” she asked sweetly.

  


He replied with a squeeze to her hips, fingers slipping under the thin fabric of her garter belt.

  


“Won’t you come for me?” she cooed, riding him with her hand on his chest.

  


“Yes,” he hissed, “Yes, my love.”

  


It wasn’t long before his words impacted Makoto, sending her on a frenzy as she rode him out to oblivion. When she reached her own climax, she slowed to a halt, gasping and throbbing on his cock to show him how much she’s ached for him in return. Akechi felt dizzy at the feeling, soon coming inside of her as well. Makoto fell on top of her lover, catching her breath for the first time in such a long while.

  


“I wanted you so badly,” he admitted, “you have no idea.”

  


Akechi pressed a kiss to her neck, soothing her body as she laid on top of him.

  


“I wanted you too,” she replied, “I couldn’t stand you not being near me.”

  


“Makoto…”

  


“It’s true,” she said, hiding her face in his shoulder, “I couldn’t help but feel that your work was somehow more important to you.”

  


“You’re crazy,” he replied, lips kissing her jaw, “You’re my wife. Mine. Do you understand?”

  


Makoto sighed, rolling off of his body to hold him close as he awaited her answer.

  


“Yes. Forever.”


	10. fool me once, kiss me twice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FancyPotatocake requested my interpretation of Akechi surviving Shido's palace and what happens to him afterwards if he and Makoto shared their love in secret the entire time.

Four days were fine. By the eighth, it was clear it had been an eternity since Akechi Goro had “disappeared.” Makoto found that much of her time had been devoted to keeping herself busy and distracted to the point of disassociation as the trains rushed by her. The faces of people around her began to look the same —the one she missed the most. And only when someone in the collective Phantom Thieves group chat pointed out that she had been dazed as of late did she realize how truly out of it she was. She slipped up, letting them know that Akechi had been on her mind. Everyone seemed to understand given the circumstances surrounding his supposed death behind that high wall. This was different though, and they didn’t know that. 

 

Makoto was waiting with bated breath for his return, knowing very well that the chances became slimmer and slimmer as each day had gone by slow as ever. Her duties at school seemed to slow to a halt, her studying simmered into sessions where she’d simply watch her pen flip in circles around her fingers. She knew what bothered her, why it bothered her, and how it bothered her. But she couldn’t stop it as each breath she took became ragged as if she were gasping for air. She couldn’t even dare to cry, knowing it wasn’t over yet until she knew for certain that Akechi Goro was certainly dead. Maybe only then would she know the closure that he had supposedly given her in his last words in Masayoshi Shido’s palace. 

 

_ You’re pretty good _ , he had said. Her heart pounded when she saw the figure behind him cloaked in shadows for now. They were words that were directed to her, and she knew that. It was obvious in the way he gritted his teeth, in the way his jaw clenched much like it had done in the past when he was around her. They were the same actions he had shown when he expressed and confessed his love for her on the roof of their cram school building before he leaned down to kiss her in a bundle of nerves. The way she gasped for that same air now was similar to when he finally released her when she hadn’t returned his kiss. He grimaced at her once, and then twice in that palace. When Shido’s cognition unveiled himself from the shadows, he grinned maddeningly. There was something wrong with the cognition that he had conjured for his own son, a twisted smile on full display, eyes wide and one clearly didn’t twitch like the other as he cackled maniacally at the scene before him.  _ Her _ Akechi seemed to know that his time had come. 

 

His last glance into her eyes were one seeking for forgiveness. They were ones of regret, shame, and disappointment. It was obvious that there were things he had left out in their fucked up relationship, but he wished in that moment that she knew what those feelings he had encapsulated in that kiss on the roof meant. It hit her all at once just like that wall that sprouted from the ground. His voice was harrow when he said his final words to Joker. 

 

Even in those despicable, disguised words to the “foes” he faced in the end, she knew it wasn’t him. In the kindness that he had shown her, the flicker of his lips along her jaw, the brush of his fingertips along her arm and then down to her wrist before claiming her tongue. That same mouth that had muttered those foul, regurgitation of practiced words had kissed her with love and desire. Makoto wouldn’t weep for him just yet. She was realistic, placating the pessimism she had been bred with at times, but for Akechi Goro, she’d stay just ever so slightly optimistic. 

 

On the twelfth day, Makoto received a strange and terrifying message that turned her blood cold. Almost. A text in all capitals arrived midday, bidding her to meet somewhere secluded. Her heart pounded at a speed of an unknown mileage, wondering immediately if Akechi had been dragged out of the pile of ship rubble and was alive. Perhaps the police had found his body and he was dead. A million ideas popped into her head with the worst possible scenario, but she knew she had to meet the voice.

 

**MEET ME ALONE.**

 

The final text came as such, and Makoto closed her eyes, and put away her phone. Outside, the sky crackled once, and then twice just as the glances came the last time she had donned the persona of Queen. Her body trembled briefly as if anticipating a cold, stormy night – like the one that came the day of her father’s funeral, or the night she’d found out of his fate entirely. Makoto expected bad news. She knew bad news was coming. She clutched her phone for good measure, voice and throat being torn raw as she blinked back the tears that would inevitably come. 

 

The storm was coming.

 

\------

 

One final text came and Makoto’s hands trembled as she read the address given to her over and over again. She stood outside of the shoddy building a little longer, listening to the thunder rumble some more, placating her fear of storms more than her fear that  _ her _ Akechi was dead. When she saw lightning, and the first drop of water hit the tip of her nose, she made an audible distraught noise and stumbled forward into the building. 

 

She wasn’t surprised to find that the door was unlocked as she glanced around. For all she knew, there were likely a hoard of men holding Akechi hostage. Her fingers wrapped around the taser in her school bag, fingers reaching for the knob to remind her of its placement, and then she rushed in. Thunder cracked once again and Makoto stood in horror at the sight in front of her. 

 

“Took you long enough,” came the smooth, broken voice.

 

Makoto felt a whimper escape her as she laid her eyes upon a bloodied Akechi. Doused from head to toe in dabs of blood all over, she noted the splay of his leg ensured that it was broken. Dropping everything, she ran over to him by the window. He coughed, blood oozing through the corner of his mouth as he attempted to swallow it out of fear of evidence in the place. Makoto dare not touch him, hands hovering over every inch of his body, wishing she could hold him that very moment.

 

“What hap-”

 

“Now’s not the time,” he said weakly. 

 

“What do I need to do?” she asked with determination.

 

“Heh. Do you mind not turning me in when I die here? Just let me rot in this place where I belong-”

 

“Shut up. I waited for you. I would’ve continued to wait for you,” she sobbed, tears finally dousing her red cheeks. 

 

“You shouldn’t have. I  _ wish _ you didn’t,” he said coldly.

 

Her eyes roamed the dirty phone in his hand.

 

“A burner?” she asked in certainty.

 

“No one can know. No one will know,” he said carefully, eyes glazing over hers to show that he was serious.

 

“So you intend to die here, then?” she asked indignantly.

 

“Sure do.”

 

Makoto held her hand steadfast from either slapping him or kissing him there. 

 

“Why’d you tell me to come here then?” she shot back.

 

“You didn’t want to see me one last time?” he asked jokingly.

 

“Either be serious with me or I’m calling th-”

 

“I came to say goodbye,” he said quietly.

 

“No.”

 

In the silence that followed her firm answer, Makoto had a chance to look him over. He leaned against the window sill, torn leather gloves gripping onto the ledge to hold himself up painfully. He had properly lost the blazer— a hint for the police that he had “disappeared” along with the cognitive palace. She looked over his defeated and pathetic state before their eyes met once more. Akechi gave her a small, sad smile, letting her know that he had long accepted his fate. If he was turned in, the authorities would likely await the six months or so to hold his trial in tandem with Shido’s. He’d be of age then, torn from the semblances of society entirely to sit and rot behind bars. Or he could rot in the ground instead. He obviously preferred the former. 

 

Makoto could read that in his eyes now as he looked at her like she was his only hope. 

 

“I’m going to help you,” she promised him quietly.

 

“After all this time?” he laughed weakly, “After all I’ve said to you? To all of you? To your  _ precious  _ Joker-”

 

Makoto slammed him against the slightly shattered glass window, eyes turned fearful and indignant at the same time as she watched the storm unfold behind him. He winced at the action, but it faded quickly as he returned to the nonchalant air he held moments earlier. She couldn’t hold it back standing around and watching him writhe in his self pity, and she plastered a sloppy kiss onto his lips to the best of her known abilities. Rolling the blood on her tongue, she groaned at the metallic taste. Akechi was slow to return in equal fervor, but he sighed into her kiss roughly, drawing ragged breaths as he bit down on her bottom lip softly. Naturally, she found her hands wound in the dampened bloody shirt, uncaring that it was getting all over the white of her school turtleneck. When his hand snuck around the back of her neck to grip her closer to him, Makoto knew there was no turning back anymore. 

 

She pulled away, breathing broken as her hands found themselves balled against his hardened chest.

 

“Sorry I-“

 

Makoto pressed him against the window again, with wounded fingers through his hair as she kissed him gently this time.

 

“As much as I want to stay here and kiss you,” he said breathlessly through her hungry pants, “Are you sure you want to do this here?”

 

“You’re going away, aren’t you?” she asked, “Not just for a very long time, I mean.”

 

“The thought entered my mind,” he confessed, twiddling with the buttons on her vest.

 

“You’re not giving yourself all the options-”

 

“Do I deserve any option other than death, Makoto?” he asked her honestly.

 

“Yes. I said it before in front of everyone.  _ Your father _ played you. He used you. You were a child when this all first started,” she pressed.

 

“I was just as cognizant then as I am now about disappearing,” he told her, “I don’t deserve your sympathy no matter how you put it.”

 

“Then why didn’t you just go?” she asked incredulously, “Why did you ask me to come here? Why me?”

 

She asked as if wanting to belong to him. She asked like she wanted him to answer that he did it because he cared about her. She asked because she knew that he would say otherwise, break her heart, and she’d live out the rest of her days trying to forget Akechi Goro.

 

“Because I love you,” he said quietly, eyes determined as he said so.

 

It was the first time he looked at her in such determination. Even as he rolled out the words that he’d always win, always score higher, always be one step ahead of her, it didn’t compare to the way he confessed his love. Makoto could feel her mouth twitch, not knowing whether to burst into tears of joy or not. 

 

“Because I loved you this entire time,” he said even quieter, “Because I didn’t want the last memory that you held of me to be that monster you saw.”

 

Akechi gave her a pleading look, either to beg for forgiveness or to beg her to let him go. 

 

“That wasn’t you,” she said softly.

 

“And you know this to be certain?” he dared her, “You don’t know  _ half _ the things I’ve done. Not even a  _ quarter _ of the things I’m capable of-”

 

“But I know that you love me. Do you love me entirely?” she asked, cheeks dusted in colored rose in fear partially of potential rejection, and secondly because the idea of love had never penetrated her mind as possible in the form of the once-detective before her.

 

As if appalled at her slightest inclination to believe otherwise, Akechi half-growled and then groaned before pulling her to him. The blood in his side continued to seep slowly, but it now mixed with Makoto’s tears on his shoulders as he wrapped his arms gingerly around her eneverated form. The silent tears turned into weak sobs next when she returned his embrace with her own, not knowing how to hold him properly for fear of hurting him.

 

“What happened behind that wall?” she asked through her sobs.

 

“He shot me,” he said plainly.

 

“No, you imbecile,” she choked, “How did you survive?”

 

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you that I set it up that way, would you?” he asked.

 

“I’d believe you.”

 

“And that I shot first?” he continued.

 

“I believe that.”

 

“What if I told you that none of that was true and that I only got away because I thought about you?” he asked quietly, squeezing her for emphasis.

 

“No, I wouldn’t believe that.”

 

He choked out blood once more at her response, splattering the liquid onto the floor this time, forgetting his entire intention to disappear. 

 

“You’re dying, aren’t you?” she asked. 

 

“Only this entire time,” he chuckled lowly.

 

“I’m taking you to the hospital-”

 

“No. Please.”

 

“I don’t know how to  _ fix _ this! I don’t know what to do, and I don’t want you to disappear. Don’t leave me,” she cried, “I’m so tired of being alone.”

 

Akechi’s eyes felt dry and heavy suddenly. He let go of the wound on his side and watched Makoto pull away to look at him, waiting for his reply.”

 

“Makoto,” he said in a small voice, “Don’t forget about me.”

 

Gripping him by the shoulders, she shook him awake to look at her with whatever leftover determination she had.

 

“If you disappear, I’m coming with you,” she finally said. 

 

“You have your entire life ahead of you,” he said quietly, “Don’t take that as me trying to persuade you to pity me. You’re not coming.”

 

“Then you’re going to a hospital. Sae will defend you. I’ll testify. All of it. I’ll do it all, whatever you say,” she said, enunciating every word with intention.

 

His eyes fluttered a little more to stay awake as she reached for her phone. He didn’t stop her, cheek pressed into the curve of her shoulder. He felt her pound in the numbers roughly, her movement shaking him slightly as he latched onto her. 

 

“Whatever I say?” he asked weakly, each word softer than the last.

 

“Yes, you idiot. I love you, too,” she said in half-disbelief, and half-shyness, eyes situated on her phone in front of her as her phone began to make dialing sounds.

 

The noise on her phone was unbelievably loud even though it hadn’t been on speaker. The ringing tone seemed to drag on before it stopped entirely, echoing as Akechi faded into either a temporary or permanent slumber. Makoto’s mouth was moving, but he didn’t seem to hear her. He didn’t seem to hear anything. 

 

“Stay with me,” he said, words barely a whisper, sitting on the surface of his lips as he sank into the warmth of Makoto’s arms. 

 

His eyes finally closed weakly as his thoughts drifted into wondering when he’d wake up next, where’d he wake up next, if he’d wake up at all, and if Makoto would be there waiting for him, with him. Perhaps fate wouldn’t be so cruel this time around and grant him just one wish. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the request! 
> 
> I'm sure you'd love to know if Akechi lives or not, if they run off together, and all that but I'll leave that up to your interpretation. :) 
> 
> I kinda left it open-ended in hopes of being to write what I imagine would happen in tandem with the events that unfold after his "disappearance" in the game. 
> 
> Thank you so much for the support!


	11. possess me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TigerRaiken requested werewolf!Goro who struggles with moving forward in his relationship with Makoto, unbeknownst of his true self. Anyways, he's possessive, obviously— the only way I can write Goro.

Akechi watched the moon wax with disdain, feeling the hairs on his body stand up as he withstood against the unwavering and unforgivable nature of the elements. He became disgruntled and turned away from his book entirely, placing it face down on whatever page he had left off with disinterest. Sighing to himself, he rubbed his temples as his body’s muscles tightened in preparation for what would come. He could tell the strength he usually had was doubling alongside that of his unfortunate arousal.

 

Short and simple, it meant time away from his beloved. He could see the sad look in her eyes already, mouth drooping ever so slightly in a pout as he told her the news of his upcoming disappearance. Makoto would nod in understanding, of course, but he knew it hurt her every time. He was certain that it hurt him doubly more as he watched her fight back her own wish to speak up, and the pain tripled from there when he sat in isolation, body twitching and writhing as he fought through the full moon. It’s what werewolves did if they chose to be celibate and abstain from potentially harming the other humans they walked the earth with. Akechi was no different.

 

Makoto wandered into his study like a timid mouse, red eyes glowing in curiosity as she peeked behind the heavy door to check the sound of the thud. He realized quickly that his notion of setting something down gently was only growing by the second, and he had already forgotten about his own strength that he had learned very well to hold back. He turned from staring desperately at the tall windows to adjusting his gaze towards the girl in hiding. He motioned to her with his gaze only that she should come to him.

 

Blinking a few times, she maneuvered herself into the high-ceilinged room carefully. He noticed that when she swallowed, the decorative collar around her neck moved slightly with the motion, signaling that she was nervous to approach him. Akechi became painfully aware of how creamy her skin was under the pale light from outside, coloring up her arms like she was a painting of sorts. Makoto’s hands intertwined as she waited for his further instructions. He felt his patience grow thinner by the second, knowing very well that this was a game that she liked to play with him at times, but also because she knew to test his patience when it came to laying his claim upon her. He had yet to be successful.

 

His hand moved up, fingers enlightening her in a ‘come hither’ motion and she flushed. It was obvious now that he wanted her there and she wouldn’t deny him any longer for fear that he’d chase after her as he would always do. Makoto made large steps forward, her long trailed nightgown following her as she approached him. Soon, his arm reached out for her, caressing her cheek almost instantly when she was within arms reach. Makoto placated him and used both hands to hold his own close to her face, smiling to herself and avoiding his gaze.

 

“You’re quite persistent in your attempts to disobey me today,” he pointed out, one side of his lips curling into a grin.

 

“ _You_ talk about persistence like you’re so unaware of the definition in its application towards your own actions,” she taunted in return, vernacular as particular as ever.

 

“Do you study how to one-up me in your free time nowadays?” he asked her, eyes gleaning her for any signs that she might be serious.

 

“‘Beguile’ is a good word. ‘Finesse’ is fitting also,” she hummed as she ignored his question to hone in on his own word choice.

 

His brows furrowed now and his hand slipped off of her easily to entangle her body close to his. Makoto let out sounds of glee and laughter as she felt him frown into the side of her neck in his attempts to hold her still. To confound her even more, Akechi was silent.

 

“What’s wrong?” she asked, pulling away after a moment of him holding her like feared letting go.

 

He held his breath for a moment, running through the lines as he had practiced over and over again in the easiest and least painful way to disappoint. Makoto looked down at him, her hands stroking the side of his face as he buried himself close to her chest now to hear her heart. She was silent but worried as she careened the long strands of his ash brown hair that cupped his face. From her view, his lashes were very long and it was very obvious when he blinked rapidly to either force something out of his eyes, or cry. Akechi held her like that for a long while, allowing her to think what she would. He knew he would miss the smooth caress of her skin against the rough calluses of his own, the brush of her short choppy hair against his face when he inched close to her in the morning, and the smile that he knew would fade in a moment’s time. He exhaled.

 

“I have to go away again. Soon,” he whispered into her skin.

 

Makoto let out a loud sigh, a sound of defiance as she considered picking a fight with him as she did on a eerie monthly basis. Akechi grimaced as he saw her hands reach to pry him off of her, fully intending to go to bed angry, _and_ without him.

 

“Don’t-”

 

“Why is it always like this?” she asked indignantly, “Always, always.”

 

“I have to,” he winced, “I’m sorry.”

 

“Will you ever explain to me _why_? Do you intend to leave me in the dark like you always have?” she asked, anger leaking from other parts of their relationship into their conversation now.

 

“Makoto, it’s-”

 

 _It’s for your own good,_  he wanted to tell her. Every time. He knew it was, but in truth it was simply a statement to smooth over his own insecurities. Everyone knew — humans, werewolves, vampires — they all knew that werewolves mated for life. To compare to the vampires that fed off of animal blood instead of humans, some packs of werewolves chose to isolate themselves for fear of ruining the already-shaky sanction between humans and other creatures.

 

In truth, he wanted to mate with her. He wanted to do so badly. But he also wanted her to be sure that _he_ was the one for her. After that, they’d be bonded for life and the feral parts of him knew that the possessive nature of his would come soon after due to her naturally disobedient and rebellious spirit.

 

She waited for him to finish his sentence with “it’s nothing” as he usually did. He stunned her even more when he chose to escape the situation entirely, gathering his things from the chaise and walking away from her. It was always a repeat, and he was nearing his cycle to continue placating her worries when he was deathly afraid of physically harming her. He could hear her, incredulous as she ran after his suddenly fast walking, turning down the spiral staircase and making for the front door. He heard her call out to him, begging him to wait and as much as it tore his heart in two, he couldn’t stand to be near her any longer.

 

This would be their twelfth month together, marking almost a year that he hadn’t shifted into his feral form. It would be extremely painful if he ever had to, and thus, equally excruciating to hold back his primal urges. With each passing month, it’d get worse and worse until she would most likely leave him. Akechi could nearly feel his canines shift in size simply at the thought of her leaving him for another. He wouldn’t be able to stand it, ripping her newfound, better, _human_ lover apart before he devoured her without a care in the world. He wouldn’t let it get to that.

 

He couldn’t find it in his heart to say goodbye, barely insisting to himself to turn back to even glance at her before it was too late. How much longer could she stand him — the monster that he was? The monster she didn’t even know about. He told himself this and then turned abruptly, feet almost tripping in the snow. Makoto hadn’t followed him out. It was nearly a blizzard, and she let him be. Akechi felt torn between possessiveness and a broken heart. The ache to claim her as his once and for all, and the desire to keep her safe.

 

He allowed the latter to win for the twelfth time in a row before turning back to make his fast trek through the snow away from human sight.

 

\------

 

Makoto found herself in bed, knowing not what had just happened to make Akechi act the way that he had. The hand under her stroked his side of the bed, fingers grazing lightly over his pillow as she contemplated the possibilities. A single tear seeped down her cheek and she quickly brushed it away, fearing her own embarrassment at her vulnerability when it came to who was supposed to be her lover. Perhaps he was unfaithful. The possibility made her jaw clench and her heart throb painfully. The tears came more rapidly now, and Makoto didn’t realize she had been stifling them back when she watched him walk out the front door from the top of the staircase. Her throat was raw then, but she chalked it up to anger and contempt for his behavior, not realizing that she had been overcome with unwarranted jealousy. She leapt out of bed.

 

The wind howled against the window of her cold bedroom, reminding her to light the fire by the fireplace. Her hand brushed the dust off an old card that had been sitting as a bookmark in between a long forgotten book. Makoto hadn’t been particularly hiding it from Akechi, but it had its uses when he left. She sighed when she held the card close to her heart, feeling somewhat at peace as she read the name “Amamiya Ren” on it. She’d pay him a visit tomorrow, just as Akechi was likely paying a visit to a mistress of his own now. For now, she’d sleep.

 

\------

 

Makoto pressed the leather of her gloves against her cold cheeks, relishing in the warmth around her hands at the very least. They were a gift from Akechi, but none of that mattered at the moment. Her heart pounded as she stood around in the town square, waiting for the clocks to let out its old, loud chime to indicate that it was nearly nine in the morning. She watched lovers walk by her, arms hooked around each other as they waited for the small shops in the space to open for business. Frowning ever so slightly, she became suddenly aware that she was likely being scrutinized by them for appearing in public without a man in her arms. She’d have one soon.

 

The clock chimed its promise of nine, and just like she had eagerly awaited, Ren was punctual in his arrival. His glasses had fogged up thanks to the cold air, but he was easily recognizable in the crowd. For one, he was the only one who wore a top hat so nonchalantly even though the style had been outdated for many years. His eyes wandered over the crowd, then to the small line outside of his coffee shop, and finally to Makoto. His expression nearly erupted into a joyous laughter, eyes bright and the usual nonchalant demeanor he held had simmered into a warm one. She ran up to him and jumped into his arms to match his excitement, embracing him tightly.

 

“It’s been awhile hasn’t it, my dear?” he asked her out of breath.

 

“Yes. Yes it has, Ren,” she agreed.

 

“Come,” he motioned to her to follow.

 

The bell rang in reminiscence of the many times she’d wander into town to pay him a visit when she was a young and naive girl. Ren made for the fireplace right away to ensure that she would be warm before unclothing himself of the heavy layers of his coat, blazer, vest, scarf, and whatever else he had arrived in. The green apron he tossed on suited him much better, Makoto thought, and he immediately began to heat up the pot in front of him to make coffee.

 

“He’s gone away, hasn’t he?” he asks her after she’s settled at the bar.

 

“As he always does every month,” she says with a soft sigh, settling her chin onto the edge of her hand, “How have you been?”

 

“You’re eager to ask about me,” he noted.

 

“I haven’t seen you, as you said. It’s been months now,” she reminded him, “Or have you forgotten about me?”

 

He made his way back to the bar as the coffee behind him stirred and whirred. First he pushed up his glasses and then he tapped her on the nose, the usual endearment he had reserved for her.

 

“Never,” he replied.

 

Makoto smiled to herself when he disappeared into the back again.

 

“I think he’s out being unfaithful,” she called out finally, eyeing the outside of the shop to ensure that no visitors were planning to enter to eavesdrop.

 

“If he was, you would’ve left him by now,” Ren told her.

 

“If I _knew_ , I would’ve left him by now,” she corrected him.

 

“Even then, I don’t think you would,” he called from the back.

 

“I’m offended,” she said plainly, “You really think so little of me?”

 

“I think very highly of you, my dear,” he said, wandering back to her with the pot of coffee in hand and juggling two cups in the other, “Liqueur?”

 

“This early?!” she asked incredulously.

 

“Never stopped me,” he shrugged, “You seem like you could use one.”

 

“I… How strong is it?” she asked.

 

“Oh, Makoto,” he sighed, pouring several shots into his and a much smaller helping into hers.

 

Makoto swallowed before grabbing the spoon on the plate beneath her cup to stir the liqueur in. She took a careful sip and decided she liked the taste of it. It went well with the coffee much like a strong and bitter cream.

 

“Surely you came to see me for reasons other than to check up on how I am,” Ren said mischievously, hinting at the obvious.

 

Her eyes darted to his and nodded, and she need not say anymore.

 

\------

 

The dark cave promised Akechi a peace of mind, knowing very well no humans would wander out into the blizzard and make it to him alive. He was safe, and completely isolated away from any human connection as he would writhe and ride out the next few days of his heat cycle alone. There was a fire sitting at the back of the cave, not for warmth, but for light. He wouldn’t need it, knowing that his body rose in extreme temperatures during the cycles. He winced for a moment when he thought of earlier that summer when it had been so unbearably hot. He considered swimming out into sea and finding an island out there but decided against it when he thought about his dislike for water, a bad combination with his fur.

 

Akechi hadn’t thought about Makoto at all until he walked back into the cave and looked into the flames that flicked and danced. In that fire, he saw her lithe figure as if he had never left. She danced and tangoed in a wave, ensnaring him in a lustful daze. He truly was gone if he could seriously be enchanted by some suggestions from the fire. His eyes looked away and in the cuts and crevices of the cave, he swore he could draw Makoto there with him.

 

_Don’t you want me? Hasn’t it been long enough? Or do you plan to savor me?_

 

He growled, intoxicated by the fantasies of words she would never dare utter. She was innocent, and he was certain of that. He didn’t dare to put his hands on her, between her legs, on her hips, for he feared that would be all it took for Makoto to tame the beast within him. He wasn’t ready for that quite yet. He needed to be sure, to be certain that she was his. Akechi was certainly hers, and he knew that with every fiber of his monstrous being. With one fast motion, he had whisked away the fire and he sat in the dark cave alone. Things had gotten worse somehow, and he could see her even clearer now before him in the dark where anything and everything happened.

 

Makoto walked to him, body bare as he had seen her many times before. His eyes followed the curve of her waist as it flared out into her wide hips before he settled on the mound of her sex. He felt ashamed for a moment and whipped back up to look at her face. She gave him an almost shy smile, tucking strands behind her ear before she got on all fours and crawled to him in a tantalizingly animalistic manner. Akechi knew that any display of this in the real world and he would have felt every wall of self restraint he built to crumble into dust. But he was alone, and his heat was simply peaking with every second it took for the vision to approach him. He tried to close his eyes and shake his head to no avail. She stayed, she followed.

 

Her hands felt real, her skin felt real. Had he truly gone so long ignoring his heat so toxically that mere visions of his beloved started to become a reality? Akechi was going mad, that was for certain. Prior to meeting her, he had at least allowed his body the comfort of easing in and out of their forms, but with each month that passed, he stayed human. He wished to be human. For her, he wanted to be.

 

_So this is where you’ve been hiding? Do you take your mistresses here, but not me?_

 

“Never,” he found himself responding aloud.

 

 _You must not love me very much_ , the vision tantalized, nodding.

 

 _No, no. I love you_ so _much it hurts. You have no idea how much it pains me._

 

_Then why are you running away now?_

 

The vision turned nearly violent when she nuzzled up against him and settled between his legs. Akechi exhaled when she reached to grab him by the neck but had failed to do so. He had to turn. He had to. He could bear it no longer. It would be painful, but at the very least it’d give him a new starting point to work with. No, he’d abstain. He had to. For her.

 

Akechi let out a painful howl, seemingly ripping apart the vision before him as he fought through. He slinked forward onto all fours, coughing and hacking up as he willed his body not to turn. His saliva dripped down the sides of his mouth, eyes rolling back into his skull as he grit his teeth like an animal in pain.

 

He had two choices. He’d turn now and overrule the nearly year-long celibacy that had been going so _smoothly_. Or he’d claim her as his mate, take her as his and rut through her as he gave in to that unbearable and painful heat he had long ignored. Either way, he needed release. Akechi slammed his head onto the ground of the cave, writhing in need into the crack of the earth that had done no harm to his own body. He was moments away from nearly ripping himself apart in his own skin.

 

The latter. He opted for the latter. He’d ruin her life, but she’d learn to forgive him somehow. It was he who he would never forgive. But none of that matter when the clouds in his mind were so overpowered and shrouded by his arousal. Akechi keeled over in a start, and soon he was sprinting. He’d find her soon.

 

\------

 

Makoto cleared her throat, and yanked the sleeves of her long coat over her arms. She gave the fabric a quick redraping before turning to face Ren. She threw the scarf over her neck and then flushed when she looked up at him.

 

“What? Can’t stand to look at me so suddenly?” he teased her.

 

“As if,” she scoffed, waltzing out of the shop.

 

He ran after her, laughing nervously as he held her arm still. They both noticed that the evening had crept up on them, and the skies were turning darker by the second.

 

“Well,” she said breathily.

 

“Well, indeed.”

 

He tapped her on the nose once again, knowing very well it’d be a long time again before he could see her. Makoto blushed at the sentiment, ignoring the fact that they had just spent long intimate hours together.

 

“Give my love to Ryuji,” she finally said, leaning forward to press her lips to his cheek.

 

“It’s… actually Yusuke now,” Ren said nervously.

 

“Yusuke-!? You! You’re more of a heathen than I am,” Makoto said stunned.

 

“Who said you were a heathen at all?” he asked in reminder.

 

“... You’re right.”

 

“Don’t forget everything I just spent my entire day telling you,” he scolded her.

 

“You’re so good with men, why don’t you try dating Goro?” she sneered at him.

 

“I can’t date his type,” he admitted, “There’s something… primeval about him. Do you understand?”

 

Makoto looked down, running through the theory he had ran by her only a few hours ago.

 

“Makoto?” he asked slowly.

 

“He’s fine,” she said softly, “A bit estranged but… I love him. I know that now.”

 

She looked up at him and patted his cheek once more.

 

“I have to pay you sometime,” she said jokingly, “For your services.”

 

“You know if I had the money to go through schooling to be a psychologist I would have,” he rolled his eyes.

 

“I know. That’s why I should pay you so that you can,” she said, “You’re so good at it. Take care of yourself, Ren.”

 

“I will. To the best of my abilities,” he said, smiling in mischief.

 

“Have Yusuke do it then,” she called behind her, walking away as she shook her head.

 

She heard the twinkle of his laugh before she began the long, dark trek home. It really would be a long time before she saw him again.

 

Halfway through her journey, she felt as if eyes were upon her. She felt uneasy and believed it to be the wind that howled so intently into her ear. She covered her arms as a measure of safety, but the feeling seemed to intensify. Picking up her pace, Makoto started to leap into a run. As if taking that as a challenge, she swore she could hear and feel what was watching her approach closer. The lamps along the street could only light so much, but she could sense someone near. She stopped walking and she heard shifting in the snow behind her. Holding in her breath, she counted down from five, enough time to surely turn around and shift her entire weight to punch whoever was behind her.

 

Five.

 

Four.

 

Three.

 

Two.

 

One.

 

Her arm never made it to even ball into a fist before she was quickly swooped up in heated and strong arms. She blinked once and found it painful with how strongly the wind and snow seemed to scream in her ears and prick frost against the back of her neck and cheeks. She closed her eyes, hoping to meet her end soon except she found herself on the doorstep of her home. Makoto looked up at the figure that hovered before her, recognizing the width of the man’s shoulders and curve of every hard muscle in his body as no one other than Akechi.

 

“Gor-”

 

He slammed her into the door.

 

“What. Were you doing with that man?” he seethed.

 

“R-Ren? I was… He’s just a friend-”

 

“Hardly,” he punctuated, “I saw the two of you.”

 

“Please, please. Let’s go inside,” she pleaded, her hands shaking as she reached for his chest, “Why are you dressed like this? You must be freezing.”

 

His shirt was nearly torn and ripped into shreds given the speed he had been running to find her. He might have entertained the idea of burning down their house had he not been overcome with fear that she had went out to go after him suddenly. No, she hadn’t. She had been spending time with another man, just as he had anticipated from the very beginning.

 

Still, his heart pounded being so close to her and his desire to possess her was overruled as she ushered him inside. Makoto knew he was angry, and given the _friendly_ , yet intimate gestures she had shown Ren, it did look like they were anything but old friends. She led him upstairs gingerly, hoping he wouldn’t show her any unkind and harsh gestures like the one at the door. Akechi followed her in a trance, reeling in anger and possessiveness, indecisive of which one he’d placate first.

 

Makoto pushed on the heavy doors to their bedroom, glad to see that the fire was still going at the very least. Her eyes looked to him in worry, but he made his way to sit on the edge of their bed, watching her toss more firewood into the hearth. She freed herself from her coat and scarf, hugging her arms briefly as she tried to warm up. Forgetting that he was angry, her eyes bolted up to stare into his deep mahogany ones in surprise. He encased her by the wall behind her, throat grumbling in an unfamiliar sound. Akechi got close to her, lips nearly upon hers before she dismissed herself in a hurry.

 

“I’ll make some tea,” she said quickly, rushing out of the room.

 

When she returned, he was sitting on the bed again. Suddenly, she felt her hands shaking and the teacup matched it with its obvious porcelain chatter.

 

“Please,” she said quietly, “Don’t drop it.”

 

Akechi might have been seething, but the human side of him had learned to behave as such in circumstances such as this.

 

“I don’t need it,” he replied lowly.

 

“Can we please get you out of those clothes-”

 

“Why were you with that man?” he snided once again, reminding her of his wrath earlier.

 

“He’s just a friend,” she said quietly.

 

“A friend warranted of being _kissed_ by you?” he asked incredulously.

 

“Goro, he’s…” she blushed suddenly.

 

“An old lover,” he answered for her.

 

“No!” she turned a deeper shade of red.

 

That was all the answers he needed. He took the tea from her, eliciting a gasp as she nearly dropped it in surprise. Akechi eyed it carefully, his sense of smell hitched for a moment as he expected her to poison him.

 

“Wh-what… You think I’d poison you?”

 

“I wouldn’t know,” he said unconcerned, downing it in full gulps much to her dismay.

 

“Goro…” she said painfully, throat scalding just at the sight of what had happened.

 

He got up and threw her on the bed, ripping whatever was left of his shirt off of his body and he was back to encasing her between his arms. Makoto sighed in fear, but mostly, she was glad that he was with her once more, though it was obvious that something was off.

 

“You’re burning up. Do you have a fever?” she asked.

 

“No.”

 

“Why did you drink that-”

 

“It doesn’t hurt me. Nothing does,” he answered.

 

_Nearly nothing._

 

Makoto jumped when she felt something unfamiliar and hard against her hip. Her eyes looked to him for reassurance, mouth ajar for a moment as if hoping he’d kiss her.

 

“Do you… want to?” she asked innocently, knowing not that only earlier he had conjured up indelicate visions of her saying anything but.

 

“I not only want to, I need to,” he sneered.

 

“N-need…?”

 

“Yes, Makoto. I need it. I’ve always needed it. And in my time of need, when I _needed_ you most, you were nowhere to be found,” he enunciated.

 

“Renisahomosexual!” she said quickly.

 

“... What?”

 

“He doesn’t like me!” she rushed, “He has… a lover. A male one.”

 

She turned deep shades of red as she said this, turning her face away from his.

 

“You were with him because…?”

 

“Isn’t it obvious?! I sought his help because you abandoned me here!” she shouted.

 

His brows knitted forward, a look very unbecoming of him as he sought out the pieces he had been presented.

 

“Every month,” she cried, “Over and over again. And not even a single word to me about it.”

 

She hid her face fully now behind her hands, the tears she had shed the night before resurfaced for the reason. He didn’t have the words to soothe her, and instead grabbed her hand so that she might feel the pounding of his heart against his human skin. Makoto didn’t understand at first, teeth gritted as she wished the tears would stop. A moment longer and then she blinked up at him.

 

“You’re so warm,” she whispered, “Burning.”

 

“Yes.”

 

Her gaze never left his even as he undid the small buttons on her dress, revealing her skin along the way. Makoto had simply been too focused on the heated caress of his fingers that would graze against every inch of her skin. Akechi’s eyes left hers for a moment to drink up the sight of her body underneath him. He was gentle suddenly, pulling her up towards him so that she could press the front of her body against his own. He slipped the dress off of her, and she shivered not from the cold.

 

“Lycan,” she finally said.

 

The monthly disappearances, all around the same time, always a week long. He didn’t dare to touch her more than she asked. Even when she proposed that she had been ready for more, he had denied her. Akechi asked her to wait. He always had.

 

“Werewolf,” he corrected her.

 

“You… You can’t control your cycles,” she said.

 

“I can’t,” he said gently.

 

“You’ve only been gone for a day so that means-”

 

“I came back. I’m still fighting my heat,” he told her.

 

Makoto sighed, and pulled him close to her as she breathed a sigh of relief. Akechi didn’t dare to think for a second that she might be relieved that he was a werewolf. A monster.

 

“Thank goodness,” she said, voice breaking.

 

“... Why? Why are you-”

 

“I told Ren… I told him I thought you had a mistress. That you were being unfaithful,” she sobbed.

 

He pulled her away from him, nearly shaking her as if she were slight.

 

“Have you never wondered for a moment that I might be a _monster?”_ he asked in disgust.

 

“You’re a werewolf,” she said confused, “There are others like you. What of it?”

 

“Makoto. I. I left because I didn’t want to force your hand,” he said painfully.

 

“Force it… how?”

 

“We mate for life,” he said in utter embarrassment, “Have you never studied our kind?”

 

“Of course I have!” she said offended, “I don’t understand why you’re telling me this like I should be surprised? You’re still mine, are you not? Why wouldn’t I want any of _this_?”

 

She motioned and gestured at his body, heaving up and down as he controlled his ragged breaths to little avail.

 

“And why would you?” he sneered, “You could have a normal life. A normal _human_ life, mind you.”

 

“What’s so different from mating with a werewolf? Are you not in a human form now?” she asked indignantly.

 

“Makoto, you’re not understanding me. I-”

 

“You think… I wouldn’t want you as a mate? Forever?” she asked.

 

“We don’t have forever,” he reminded her.

 

“Fine. Why would there be anyone else? Why would I even try to seek anything or anyone else?” she asked.

 

He was silent for a moment as he processed her words. She leaned into him, her cheek against his stomach as she held him close to her. He felt the curve of her face turn up slightly as if to smile.

 

“Then, you want this?” he asked carefully, “To be mine?”

 

“Why wouldn’t I?” she asked, not moving from the comfort of his embrace, “This doesn’t change anything for me, Goro.”

 

“Even if it were to be painful?” he asked once more.

 

“It matters not,” she shook her head for effect.

 

He gave her a few seconds to change her mind, and when she didn’t, he pressed her back into the bed. Her skirt came off easily, and he found himself palming the wool thigh high socks around her legs.

 

“I’ve wanted this… for so long,” he groaned, “I’ve held out for so long. I’m sorry I couldn’t have-”

 

“I only wish you told me sooner,” she breathed, spreading her legs ever so slightly to invite him forward.

 

He swallowed outwardly, but inside, he felt himself being gnawed from the inside out. Whatever abstinence practices he had learned, any patience he had groomed for himself — all of it was splintering like a vase so fast. Makoto heard his voice pick up in urgency, growling and fighting back low howls. The sound alone made her eyes roll back, reminding how often she had pressured him to take her and make her his and he had turned it all down. Only now was she realizing how high the uphill battle must have been for him. She moaned at the thought and he responded by placing his hands all over her body.

 

“Take me, please. Please,” she begged in heated whispers, “I’ve waited a long time for you.”

 

“I’m… trying. Mako.To. I’m trying to be… human,” he grunted, the joints of his fingers curved as he fought back from gripping her hips and tearing into her like she was inanimate.

 

“Don’t be,” she hushed, “I want this. Just as much as you do.”

 

“Oh, my beloved. Not as much as I do. Never,” he promised her, “You’ll know soon enough.”

 

“Show me,” she granted.

 

He continued to fight through his heat even though the scent of her was literally making the hairs on his body stand up. It was obvious that her arousal was within reach, and yet, he still couldn’t find it in his heart to act in any way but slow and steady. That in play with his urgent need only made for a strangely erotic rubato.

 

Makoto bit down on her lip, and then reached for his hand to feel the heat of her sex. He nearly turned violent, but he couldn’t hold back anymore. She had granted him permission, she had validated him as anything but a monster. She wanted to be his.

 

“T-tell me. Again,” he gasped, pressing his forehead to her bare stomach as he tested his patience with her scent.

 

“Make me yours. Possess me,” she begged, eyes wide when she felt the brush of his velvet tongue against her clit.

 

He let out a low feral moan and dragged her forward. Her body rested right at the junction of his cock and he entered her halfway once, and then all the way to the hilt. Akechi bit down on her shoulder painfully as he felt her cunt envelop him like she had been made to fit him and only him.

 

“Yes, just like that,” she sighed.

 

He grew fearful when he began to move, knowing not when her body started and his ended. He feared not being able to stop, and as if sensing this, Makoto clutched his forearm as he rode out his first of many cycles. Akechi’s mind was gone, completely filled with only thoughts of Makoto and the relief he felt now that he was claiming her as he had dreamed he might have. Her face twisted in pleasure as she bit back her cries for more, hoping he would have his way with her without her tampering with their first time together.

 

He slowed and grinded to a halt as he watched her feverishly beneath him.

 

“Goro,” she whined, wondering why he was stopping.

 

“You’re mine after this. All mine,” he grunted, claiming her lips quickly to emphasize his point, “Is that what you want?”

 

“Yes,” she breathed, “I’ve… always- ah!”

He continued once more, sheathing himself inside of her and then pounding inside of her relentlessly.

 

“Would you believe me?” he asked hoarsely, “Believe me if I said that I waited for you?”

 

“Ohh, not as long as I- oh, god,” she cried, expressing that her orgasm was near.

 

And like clockwork, he followed immediately after her. The sight of her enjoying herself, and the fact that _he_ was the one that was making her so joyous made his heart soar. That alone made him come unlike he had ever imagined. Makoto didn’t dare to let him go, pulling him forward to hold her before he could try to run away again.

 

“It was better than I imagined,” she said exhausted, “All that running away… when we could’ve had…”

 

“Makoto?” he asked worriedly.

 

She opened her eyes to face him, eyes blinking once or twice before curling up next to his warm body and almost instantly falling asleep. The small smile across her lips told him all he needed to know —that he hadn’t hurt her and that she was his. He pressed his lips to her damp forehead, holding her like he always intended.

 

“That means I’m yours now,” she said in a small, tired voice.

 

“Yes, mine.”

 

“For life,” she trailed on, half asleep.

 

Akechi’s heart felt at peace finally, feeling his cycle halt entirely now that he had been satiated. His eyes wandered to the fire in front of them, watching the tiny clack of sparks make delighted sounds with the crisp cool air as they disappeared one by one. Makoto clutched on closer, feeling herself become enveloped by that unhuman warmth as she dreamt about a lifetime of forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, if you couldn't tell, I just discovered how to type an em dash on Mac. 
> 
> And also, I don't know shite about werewolves. I think the main things that I focused on were  
> 1) full moons do something to them, I later learned this was a myth  
> 2) werewolves can't control when and where they turn very well, but Goro's been practicing for the sake of their relationship (lycans apparently can control this very well, and are also smarter than werewolves, oops.)  
> 3) heat cycles and arousal are high during the full moon lmao.  
> 4) Ren's gay, and most likely a vampire but I didn't want to make him _too_ irresistible because Goro and Makoto belong together.  
> 5) werewolves mate for life, and thus are protective and possessive of their mate.  
> 6) It's set in a kinda Victorian modernish era. 
> 
> I'm pretty sure I made some of these up or mixed them up with real lore along the way. Oh well. 
> 
> Anyways, hope you guys enjoyed regardless! I'm always open to kofi requests, even short prompts! I also always find a way to go over my limit somehow :} ko-fi.com/persephine


	12. insatiable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> if you weren’t mine, i’d be jealous of your love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another request from TigerRaiken! 
> 
> The girls summon Incubus!Akechi and the devilish and flirty demon latches onto Makoto. But it seems she’s found a loophole in how incubi work, and thus he sets out to torment her and work to earn her favor.

When a pair of ghoulish, red glows made themselves apparent in the dark of Makoto’s apartment, she knew she had did something wrong. She felt her memory whir backwards in time, and soon, she was sitting with her knees to the hardwood and her hands in mid air, surrounded by three others.

 

“We’re stopping this now,” she said firmly, “We’re messing with something too unfamiliar and for what reason?”

 

“Oh, come on! It’s Halloween,” Ann whined, “What do you do besides summon demons?”

 

“Give away candy? Drink fruit punch?” Makoto asked incredulously.

 

“That’s boring,” Futaba complained.

 

Makoto put her arms down, suddenly tired of keeping them up in mid air for such nonsense. She huffed and turned to get up, her velvet ankle-long black dress clung to her stockings as she did so.

 

“Makoto-“

 

“Haru… let’s get out of here. I don’t know how I got you mixed in with this but I’m-“

 

“I’m staying for a few more minutes… this seems fun! It’s no harm, Makoto. Demons don’t exist.”

 

Makoto felt the three girls in front of her, sitting around a falsely drawn circle made of chalk in the attic of Futaba’s house, fade farther and farther into the distance as she became a civilian. She felt dizzy, getting cold feet about something she _knew_ didn’t exist, and yet, she was susceptible to the rumors and idle talk that girls her age were capable of in persuasion. She was superstitious, and she felt it in the chills up her arm, and the constant twisting and turning to check to see if someone was behind her. It was like she was off in her own little world, and so she left and went home.

 

Perhaps she’d be labeled a buzz kill but no one in that room was complaining particularly that she didn’t want to participate. At the very least, she’d get a good night’s sleep knowing no demons were haunting her. When she got onto the train, she felt something grip at her wrist and she looked behind her, wondering if she’d dropped her wallet or something. Instead, an empty subway stood as its usual backdrop. It felt so real, and it gave her immense goosebumps. The mind was a dumb and susceptible thing, she knew, and so she boarded the train without a second thought.

 

She felt a brush along the back of her hair when she jingled the keys to her apartment in her hands, preparing to open the door. Now, she was afraid. A gust of wind made its presence known, but she knew that it wasn’t capable of sliding underneath her short brown hair and caress the back of her neck. Makoto instantly felt paranoid and made a faster attempt to open the door to her apartment, tumbling inside and slamming the door shut and locked.

 

Her eyes perused the living room quickly, suddenly wishing she didn’t live alone. She’d leave every light on that night, only guiltily knowing she couldn’t afford to do so thirty minutes in and turned them all off save for the one in her bedroom.

 

She glanced at the clock by her bed, and wondered for a minute if it was worth it to ruin her sleep schedule just a little. She hated storms, lightning was the worst because it was timed in its reveal. There was an undeniable rise of fear in between its strikes because it could reveal everything in its white flash of light. In her case, it was the body of her father when she came upon it. The next time, it was the reflection of Futaba’s glasses when she had first met her. There wasn’t a storm coming, per se, but Makoto could feel something and she didn’t like it. She popped two pills into her mouth before tucking herself in under the covers and plopping her head halfway.

 

Before she knew it, she was asleep. Makoto dreamed often, an extension of worrying so much, but they always manifested themselves in a way where she knew they were nothing but leftover thoughts from the day. That night, it was so vastly and horrifically different.

 

She twisted and turned in her sleep so much that part of her conscious frowned knowing that whenever she took sleeping medication, she’d usually sleep like a log. Some unknown force was tampering with her dreams now, but she couldn’t seem to wake up. There wasn’t anything happening in her dream, but it felt as if something had entered her body and began to eat her from the inside out in all the _worst_ , pleasurable ways. She’d never felt such a thing before, but she chalked it up to her lack of body discovery and that she was a virgin. Somehow she knew what she was feeling must’ve been the addiction her peers had in their lust for flesh.

 

There was an unseen force touching her, ravishing her body in ways she couldn’t even do for herself. It tantalized her in every way she might have imagined, caressing her in unknown places in unexpected ways. Makoto forced herself to wake up to deny that pleasure.

 

Her body was sweating, and she quickly heaved the heavy blanket off of her. Rushing into the bathroom, and turning all the lights on along the way, she knew now that she was simply having a weird dream. Even stranger was the pool of wet, colorless liquid that painted along the fabric of her underwear. She flushed, wondering if she had started her period early, only to find that she had been fooled as such. She sighed, still groggy from the medication, and sauntered back to bed, relieved, if only for a moment.

 

It was then, the same force made itself known with its piercing red glows. They stood as a pair, staring at her bed at first when she entered back into the room, and then slowly turned so that Makoto knew that they were doing nothing but watch her sleep. She was going to faint. As if suspecting her to do so, the eyes suddenly manifested a body and caught her. Even in the dark, Makoto knew someone was there — someone uninvited, clearly not human, and devilishly handsome. She was going to die, it was fine.

 

The being that had caught her didn’t do anything but watch her fade in and out of sleep with the softest grin. Makoto fought back as weary and tired as she were.

 

“Wh-What are you? How did you-“

 

“I was invited,” the voice that belonged to him was smooth and silky.

 

Makoto moaned, the voice itself was enough to send an unfamiliar sensation straight from her brain into the bundle of nerves that had betrayed her earlier. She became suddenly aware of his touch, and as inhuman the _thing_ seemed to be, Makoto could tell that the feeling of skin against her own was real as real got.

 

“Poor thing,” the voice oozed, “I’ve never seen someone so easily phased. They really did send you the wrong demon.”

 

“D… demon…” she writhed in his arms, wishing he’d put her in bed.

 

“Incubus, to be exact,” the demon consoled her.

 

“Incubus,” she cried weakly and with more desperation, realizing now that her friends had really _fucked_ her now.

 

“No more words,” he lulled her, “It’s time I stopped manipulating your dreams and take what I was promised.”

 

He did as she had invisibly wished and put her back in bed with ease. Unfortunately, he made a quick dive in between her legs and she tensed up immediately.

 

“No! Not there-!”

 

“I’m afraid you have no say in this. My power grows weaker by the second without your cunt around me,” he explained firmly, voice husky and in a low impatient growl.

 

“You’re going to rape me?!” she screamed.

 

When she put it that way, he knew she knew nothing about demons or incubi.

 

“I won’t have to do that,” he told her.

 

“You won’t,” she willed him, squinting and daring him to try.

 

“It’s not in our nature. You’ll willingly give yourself to me. This I know,” he told her with a dark smirk.

 

Makoto gulped, realizing in a quick whir of recent events that a few things were for certain. Her friends had summoned a demon, an incubus, and it followed her home. It survived and gained power from sex with women. And he was going to take her virginity.

 

“You’re a virgin,” he said, almost reading her mind, and licked his lips at the thought, “My favorite.”

 

He inched closer to her on all fours, and pressed his hands along her body. Makoto wasn’t sure if he was injecting some sort of power that could turn her body into goo, but she would fight it until she died. He touched her in places that she didn’t even know could set her aflame, raking through her flesh in some unknown sensation. So mesmerized and falling victim to those touched that seemingly melted her, Makoto arched her back as if hoping to get more of his touches. Her eyes rolled back as her mind tried to catch up.

 

“I told you that you’d give yourself to me,” he said seductively, “It was only a matter of time.”

 

“Please…”

 

“Yes, I know you want more,” he said, promising as such when his hands slipped up her shirt to palm the flat plane of her stomach, “Tell me so.”

 

“Please stop,” she cried weakly.

 

The incubus wasn’t pleased. It was against his entire being to take outside of seduction, and it was apparent that his ploys weren’t necessarily working.

 

“I don’t want this,” she said, voice breaking and an inch away from crying.

 

“Your body says otherwise,” he told her, fingers dancing down her stomach and under the waistband of her panties.

 

It took one fluid motion, and his fingers seemingly warped and reshaped into a dark fog of sorts. It wrapped around her clit and tantalized the flesh there in ways that Makoto didn’t know her body was capable of feeling. A few motions in and she found herself bucking at the velvety friction. Her mouth was ajar and the incubus sought to claim it, unknowingly taking her first kiss. She froze at the softness of his lips, and as if a million hands had seemingly erupted from his body, she felt them all nip and tug at every inch of her body like needles piercing her skin. He coaxed a reaction out of her finally, and he waited for a signal that his seduction was working before he intended to rut right through her.

 

Very soon, she was grinding her lower body into the sensation, hoping it wouldn’t stop, and her mouth was being ravished in such an innocent and pure way. The two dichotomies made it difficult to both breathe and think. Makoto could hardly return the favor (not that she wanted to) with how he stroked her.

 

“Do you see now?” the incubus asked quietly, “There’s no use denying yourself of your desires. Let me have you, just a taste so that I can survive.”

 

“I’d wish you’d die,” she choked out, “I’m not surrendering.”

 

The incubus visibly frowned, knowing very well that _words_ and the beg and plea for more were his only way of operation. Even if her body so clearly wanted it, he could only do so much to convince her. It was obvious now that her mind was strong and fully intact even as she lost control of her body. He read the signs of the woman beneath him so clearly, and so he stopped. It became very clear that she sought control where she had none, and in his devilish nature, he was impressed by her willpower and took her on as a challenge. Virgins gave in the easiest, knowing very little restraint, but she would be the first to resist him.

 

Even as she sat in bed, face flushed, eyes glazed over, and her sex painted in her own want to make it known that she wanted to nothing more than to be claimed and taken, the incubus sat back and watched in awe.

 

“Makoto, you don’t know how incubi work, do you?” he asked her.

 

The conversation became plain and not at all what Makoto was expecting one to be like with a demon.

 

“How do you know my name?” was all she could muster.

 

“I know a great deal of things. For one, you’re easy to read, and two, I was there when you fools summoned me,” he explained.

 

“I-I didn’t participate in any of that! I left,” she replied incredulously.

 

“And I followed,” he said simply, “You were the most interesting. The most untapped power, a rage that keeps your fire going at all times. I knew it had to be you.”

 

“You say that like I’m going to take it as a compliment. I can send you back just as well as I did in summoning you,” she warned him.

 

“That’s unfortunate. I was starting to like you so much. Too bad for you, incubi can’t be sent back. We’re demons. We do as we please,” he smirked.

 

“If you do as you please, then why haven’t you just raped me and taken my virginity?” she asked bluntly.

 

“Oh, Makoto. Don’t use that word so loosely, it’s unseemly. Incubi gain power from women who willingly give themselves to them. The success rate is high, by the way, in the first attempt. You simply pose a challenge to me that I cannot refuse,” he sneered.

 

“You incubi… you’re snarkier than humans when you don’t get what you want. Or do you just put on that seductive facade to zap powerless women into giving in when you could care less about what happens to them afterwards? Huh, you’re no different than human men in that case-“

 

The lights flickered off and Makoto felt a jolt when the incubus flung her back against her bed.

 

“Never compare us to you lowly humans,” he said as a warning, voice booming and angry even as he stroked her cheek in a patronizing way.

 

Makoto matched his gaze with no fear. She was used to this kind of person, the ones that would see that they win in the end no matter what. But he was in for a surprise if he thought that would be the case for her. As if reading her mind, he backed away from her dangerous and unreadable gaze.

 

Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to take her unwilling. Oh, but it would be so much nicer when she’d give herself to him. So much nicer for her to want it for herself. And then he’d drink from that rage he knew she pooled in her fists and every fiber of her being. He gave her one last glance, red eyes meeting her own. He smiled wickedly, a pair of striped black and white horns growing out of his head and his body followed, soon enveloped in the same pattern like a suit of armor. The incubus seemingly grew twice in size before opening up a dark portal to disappear into.

 

———

 

The next week was hell. The incubus made it clear that he had no intentions of leaving, manifesting whenever he wanted, and tantalized her whenever he pleased. The first time was when she went to confront her friends, halting right as she was about tell them off to the friction of those familiar fingers around her wrist, and then soon the incubus made it known that he was in her presence when he slipped under her sleeves and all around her body. Makoto jumped, alarming her friends before she dismissed herself, forgetting about being angry entirely when she felt his invisible touch crawl up her stomach.

 

It seemed the incubus had a penchant for tantalizing her in public, forcing her to press her knees together at all times for fear that the person across from her on the train would see up her skirt. He was nearly successful, the ghost-like fog conjured up near her ear and seemingly nipped and sucked at his own leisure. Makoto’s breathing picked up when she felt a sensation between her legs, nearly crying at how difficult it was to hold back from mirroring the sensation he had shown her the first night. She ran for the door when the train arrived at the next stop, aiming to walk the rest of the way home even if it was more than a mile away.

 

The most obvious and painful was when she went to get coffee. The _friendly_ barista had laughed a little too hard with her perhaps, or maybe it was the small passing caress of his fingers along hers when he handed her the receipt. It was made clearly obvious when he pressed his hand to the back of his neck, and asked if she would be busy that weekend. Makoto tilted her head, seeing no harm in answering until the incubus could take it no longer. Before she could answer, he manifested out of thin air, entering the coffee shop as a civilian. Her entire interaction with him had been mostly in the dark, but her red eyes widened in recognition. Makoto began to move backwards, fully intending to get away from his touch but it was too late. The barista watched in confusion as the _man_ pulled Makoto by the waist and pressed his lips to hers even as she seemingly made an attempt to run away.

 

“Sorry about that. I missed what was mine just a little too much,” he seethed.

 

Makoto scoffed at him, appalled at his ego and yet, she could sense that he was clearly phased by the way the barista had spoken to her. She slipped out of his reach, grabbed the coffee from the bar and marched out. The incubus flashed his red eyes at the poor barista before disappearing to follow who he assumed was his girlfriend.

 

His footsteps were nonexistent, following  behind her like a feather all the way home, occasionally humming in triumph. Makoto stopped abruptly to turn and face him.

 

“If I gave you what you wanted, would you leave? Forever?” she asked.

 

“I quite like it here,” he answered, “I never stayed for long because I got bored in the past, but I think I’m going to enjoy this.”

 

“What would make you leave?” she asked, narrowing her brows.

 

“Nothing at the moment. I haven’t been so entertained in such a long time-“

 

“But if I’d just be willing to give myself to you,” she said low and quiet, “then you have no reason to stay.”

 

“True.”

 

“There was no reason for you to step in to my affairs like that. And manifesting yourself as a _lowly human,_ as you’ve put it. Disgraceful.”

 

“On the contrary, my dear, I do as I please. Your body, your mind, all of it belongs to me,” he said as if as a reminder.

 

“I don’t belong to you,” she said firmly.

 

“Who controls you?” he challenged.

 

Just from glance alone, he was able to make her turn darker in shades of red. Her breath became ragged and her thighs pressed together from his eyes alone. When she whimpered, he appeared next to her, lips ghosting hers in a tease. Makoto nearly gave in, but reminded herself that it was simply all in her mind. The incubus made it known that it was anything but. His hands reached for her face, fingers dancing along her skin as he looked down at her. Her ragged gasps and small, quiet moans told him that she wanted him. He placated her with the softest kiss, too soft for a demon. It was sweet, so sickeningly sweet. The incubus pulled away, masking himself as her lover in public. But as he did so, Makoto felt herself following those soft lips of his. Her face was twisted in want, a deep crimson in her cheeks as she fought to communicate her desires.

 

He gave her a small smile, and it felt almost authentic unlike those wicked smirks and grins he’d throw her. She was frozen when he grabbed her coffee cup out of her hands, reminding that she was still a part of reality.

 

“Not bad,” he said casually, sipping the bitter liquid.

 

Makoto closed her eyes, wishing something, someone would save her.

 

———

 

The incubus made it known that he wasn’t leaving when Makoto opened the door to her apartment. He threw away the civilian appearance, blazer and pants and all, and those horns and striped body armor she had only a glance of before revealed themselves in her presence. He towered over her.

 

_Is this what the rest of my life? Tortured and demented by a demon._

 

Makoto made an attempt to try something she hadn’t considered before. Her hand reached for the incubus, touching him on the arm shyly as if to feel what made up his body. He watched her with a small smirk in her display of curiosity. She blushed when her eyes met his briefly.

 

“What are you doing?” he asked her.

 

“N-nothing.”

 

Her ministrations continued, only touching him with her fingers initially. He was so tall that to reach up to him, standing on her top toes didn’t suffice. As if sending that she wanted something, he leaned down to her. She felt the fibers of his soft brown hair first, and then up to feel his horns. She’d never felt a creature with them before, but she imagined an animal as such would feel like this. He was an animal in some way.

 

In her innocent curiosity, Makoto turned to him as if to mirror the way he had seduced her in the past— her tongue sweeping the bottom of his lip gently as she held his face down towards her. He appeased her without question, allowing her to kiss him. She mimicked the way his tongue had flicked against hers, and then she explored every crook of his mouth as he did for her. Only, she was the one out of breath at the end of it, and she was the only one thoroughly embarrassed.

 

“You’re trying to seduce me,” he noted, lips curling in a half grin.

 

“N-no! I want-“

 

“Be careful what you wish for,” he reminded her, “Have my wily ways finally caught up to you? Are you ready to give in?”

 

“I-I just-“

 

“You don’t have to seduce me, my dear. I’m always ready for you,” he told her lightly.

 

Makoto flushed, knowing that her plan had failed. She should’ve known— an incubus lived and thrived off of sex, why wouldn’t he want it.

 

“I give up,” she sighed, “If you’re going to stay here then… Is there a name I can call you? You know mine.”

 

“Goro,” he said plainly.

 

“Have you always been a demon, Goro?” she asked, only realizing afterwards in her idiocracy that nothing in the real world applied to demons.

 

“We’re simply estranged angels,” he told her, “I’m afraid your attempt at accepting my presence does not change my desire to claim you.”

 

“I know that,” she said reluctantly, almost forgetting for a moment, “And I suspect you don’t plan on leaving until you’ve…”

 

“I could, if I wanted to. I could do whatever I want. Unfortunately, I’ve grown to like you quite a bit, Makoto. And I hate losing.”

 

Makoto sighed once more, finally releasing her hands from the incubus’ face and deciding to take a nap. He followed her like she was his master, and when she threw the covers over herself and immediately fell asleep, he kept watch, stroking her hair.

 

He gave her sweet dreams — calm ones initially where she dreamt of nothing. Unfortunately for her, his mischievous nature greeted her in them when he heard her she sigh in her sleep. The incubus pulled her close in the field of flowers, sensing that she desired something pure and rooted in love. In her sleep, she greeted him with open arms, clinging onto his body as he picked her up with ease, spinning her slightly with her long white dress following. She was so small compared to him, like a nymph, and even the devilish and demonic mischief that littered his personality, he found it hard to do anything other than kiss her as she looked up at him with her large doe eyes.

 

He pressed her down onto the flowers, kissed down her neck and littered small playful nips along the way. In reality, he watched her brows narrow at the action, and he stopped doing so in the dream. Makoto stared in confusion, face radiantly pink as she nervously chewed on her lip. That was when he knew — her dreams didn’t match how she pushed him away in reality. In truth, she did want him, and in her uninhibited state of mind, he could finally tell. He picked her up and whispered something in her ear that made her flush darker.

 

“Do you want to?” he asked her, licking his lips, “All you have to do is say ‘yes.”’

 

Makoto was shy, nodding very little. He dissolved the dream completely and soon, she was met with a dreamless sleep. In reality, the incubus pulled himself away from touching her to lift her body off her bed. He watched her sleeping form for a moment longer before carrying her through the portal he opened.

 

She would see his world soon.

 

As if sensing she was in somewhere unfamiliar, Makoto awoke on the bed of flowers that were in her dreams. She wondered if she really was dreaming, with one way to find out.

 

“Goro!” she called out.

 

When he didn’t manifest, she was throttled in a strange state, both worried that he had left her alone or had gotten hurt.

 

“I’m here,” his voice came in a silky reply.

 

Makoto turned quickly to look up, trying to hold back a sigh of relief.

 

“Where am I?” she asked, hoping he had no intentions of lying to her, “Am I still dreaming?”

 

“You’re in the underworld,” he told her.

 

“Under… world-“

 

“Not like you humans make it out to be. You’re not in ‘hell,’ if that’s what you’re wondering. But it is a manifested dream, if you will. You are awake, and you’ll return to your world if you choose to,” he explained.

 

When she didn’t reply, but stood to stare at the world he created for her, he spoke again.

 

“Would you like to return?” he asked.

 

“No… let’s stay for a bit,” she said, “All my dreams have always been blurry but… this is real. It feels real at least. You made this for me?”

 

“It’s what you desired,” he said, “It’s a manifestation of your desires. Whatever they may be.”

 

“I desire… peace. Stability. _Control._ ”

 

“You desire the ability to lose that control,” he explained, “A place safe enough to do so. To surrender.”

 

He must’ve been twice her size as he looked upon her, his fingers moving her hair out of her eyes as she stared up at him in wonder. Certainly, it took her a long time to really understand that _he_ could be an incubus. He seemed gentle and caring at times like these, but when he turned relentless following her reluctance in overturning her distrust. Perhaps it was all a ploy to seduce her. That side of him that pretended to care, pretended to show her love — there would be consequences for Makoto if she believed in it.

 

“You want me to give up control?” she asked him, face pale and slightly hurt, “You just want my virginity?”

 

“I’m an incubus,” he told her simply.

 

It was enough of an answer, but still, she didn’t feel safe. It could’ve belonged to someone special, someone that would cherish it and her forever. He’d take it and run. Makoto waited for his words to confirm it, but all he did was stroke her hair and pull her closer whenever she’d drift slightly away.

 

“I want you to belong to me,” he said quietly, “I want you to _want_ to belong to me.”

 

“And yet, you can leave me when you’re done with me. Sorry, I’m so difficult and so uneasy to please,” she snided.

 

“I’ve seen you give in,” he smirked, “You do so quite often in your dreams, I simply will you to forget when you wake.”

 

Makoto froze at his words.

 

“Why do you erase my memories?” she asked, preparing to be hurt.

 

“I knew you wouldn’t like them. You’d simply feel shame in your desires and pleasure. It makes my job that much harder,” he explained.

 

“What does it matter to you what I feel? Or does it matter because you want to earn my favor for your own personal gain?” she asked.

 

“I care about you enough to try and understand a human trait. And I _loathe_ humans.”

 

“And yet, you can’t live without them, can you?” she asked triumphantly.

 

“I cannot. You are correct, my dear.”

 

Makoto seemed to beam at the way he praised her. It felt strange, but even in her distrust and uneasiness, she couldn’t help but feel that he had been anything but dishonest. He didn’t try to sugarcoat anything he told her.

 

“All of the others have been easy up until this point,” he told her, “Very easy. Easy to manipulate, to seduce, to claim. There’s something about you, Makoto.”

 

“I’m not like other girls?” she joked, “I’ve heard that one plenty.”

 

“I don’t know what that means.”

 

“Oh,” she frowned, remembering once more he wasn’t human, “You plan to win my affections by giving me what I want.”

 

“I know what you want. You’ve told me many times,” he grinned.

 

Makoto dare not ask what that meant, but she could only assume he got his fill from her dreams alone.

 

“You’re right,” he told her, picking her up by her waist so that she could rest her hands on his shoulders, “It is much nicer when I don’t entangle you in my seduction. When you want me of your own volition.”

 

“Goro…”

 

He kissed her softly, and she could feel the pool of knots and tangles at the pit of her stomach unravel slightly. The pain that ached in her jaw seemingly melted when she could finally put her mouth over his. He was gentle, just the way that she liked, and he had been shown how she liked to be touched in dreams prior. He would show her he had been paying attention.

 

His lips traveled down her body instantly the moment he laid her back down, pulling down the fabric of her white dress as he went. Makoto didn’t seem to fight it any longer, relinquishing that control like she knew she wanted to deep down. His hands cupped her hips and then further down when his tongue slithered down her clothed sex. She hissed for a second, suddenly anxious when she felt his breath along her thigh.

 

“I won’t hurt you,” he promised, “I would never.”

 

He moved her hands away from her mound and pulled down her underwear. She sighed at her display of nudity, wishing there was some way she could run and hide. As if sensing this, the incubus immediately sunk his tongue inside of her. Makoto pressed her hand over her mouth to stop her cries of pleasure. He twisted and turned, even allowing her to ride out her wave of desire along his tongue. Whenever a thought of hesitance entered her mind, he quickly removed it, allowing her to focus on giving up that control and fear that plagued her and kept her safe. She was safe with him.

 

She was dizzy, and her body was unbearably warm. Her embarrassment returned when she saw him lick his lips from her taste. For a moment, she hoped there would be more. The incubus placated her neediness with a chaste kiss on her lips. She bit her lip when he pulled away.

 

“Is that all we do in my dreams?” Makoto asked curiously.

 

“No,” he smirked down at her, “We do more than that.”

 

She wanted to know what ‘more’ was. As of hoping to lead her to that point, the incubus pressed his lips along her neck and then further down. When he neared her chest, she pressed him away.

 

“You don’t want this?” he asked her as he did many times before.

 

Makoto couldn’t hold back any longer.

 

“I do,” she hissed lightly, “I want it.”

 

His hands caressed her chest, brushing down the buds of her hard nipples through her dress, down her stomach and then once again at her core.

 

“Give in to me,” he soothed her, “Give up control. Trust me enough to know that I won’t hurt you and that you’re safe.”

 

“I… I trust you,” she whined softly, “Goro.”

 

He never had to give his name to anyone else, but it felt right to for her. Even in her reluctance, the wanton movements of her body in tandem with her heavy breathing made it clear that she would allow him to take her. Fog whirled around his body once and his naked form was on display for the first time. He kissed her in hopes to relax her, and inserted himself inside. Makoto sighed against his mouth, indicating that she was fine. He inched forward again halfway, and she winced.

 

“Don’t tense up,” he told her, “You’re mine. Remember that.”

 

Makoto let out a soft cry when he pushed himself all the way in, gripping onto his body for comfort and support. He kissed away the small tear that rolled down her cheek, no doubt from the pain.

 

“I want…” she cried, “I want to belong to you.”

 

The incubus’ makeshift heart would’ve fluttered, but instead, he felt a tinge of happiness in the way he smiled at her. Makoto looked up, eyes wide with resolve and desire. He took it as his cue to move, and he did so slowly at first. As if sensing that the friction was unbearable, he quickened the pace to one that he was more comfortable with. She clung to him, nails digging into his skin as he eased in and out of her. The incubus did something he wasn’t used to, and reached for Makoto’s face as he made love to her. She whimpered slightly, mouth slightly parted as her breathing picked up. When she grit her teeth, he knew she was close. He didn’t stop, kissing her whenever her brows narrowed in a mix of pain and pleasure.

 

When she moaned against his mouth, her body tensing and clamping down onto him, the incubus knew to slow down. Makoto threw her head back, eyes rolling into her skull as her body twitched in the aftermath. She writhed slightly underneath him, wanting to pull him close. He allowed her to, resting his face against her chest strangely unlike all the times he had done this in the past.

 

“How did you know?” she asked, out of breath, “Everything I wanted?”

 

“Because you are mine,” he said simply.

 

“One doesn’t equal the other,” she sighed, “Don’t you take what is yours?”

 

“Like I said, it is much nicer when you want me as much as I want you. I’d want to please you, hm?”

 

Makoto sighed, burying her face into his hair as she held him with his body over hers.

 

“You could stay here if you wanted,” he said quietly.

 

“A human and an incubus?” she asked frowning.

 

“I’d make you my queen,” he suggested, “Then you wouldn’t be a human anymore.”

 

“I… There are others like you, aren’t there?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Isn’t there some… hierarchy?”

 

“Human concept,” he chuckled lowly, “Just think about it. In the meantime, I’ll continue to torment you some more.”

 

“When you say it like _that_ it sounds like I don’t have much of a choice,” she frowned.

 

“You would if you were my queen,” he reminded her.

 

She didn’t respond, basking in the warmth of the sun with Goro in her arms for a bit longer before she returned with him to the underworld.


	13. split

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Per TigerRaiken's request, Akechi's been split into Robin Hood and Loki. One's desperate to turn back, and the other thinks it's all just fun and games when it comes to vying for Makoto's help and attention. :-)

As if it was God’s will or Yadalbaoth’s sick joke, Akechi Goro woke up feeling like a part of him was missing. A full half, to be exact. It was a similar feeling to waking up and realizing you had homework you forgot to do, or the immediate rush of dread from waking up late. There was no note or semblance of a sign that he had been split into two, and Akechi wasn’t crazy enough to sprint out of bed trying to find his missing self, but he felt like it was the right thing to do. 

 

He backtracked initially, recalling what he had ate the day before was nothing out of the ordinary. He had gone to school, done his weekly broadcast yesterday as well, and then gone to cram school. Nothing abnormal there. 

 

He had ran into Niijima Makoto. Or rather, he had sought her out as a preemptive measure to figure out what she knew about the Phantom Thieves. When she wouldn’t oblige, he had resorted to some  _ unsavory _ words, both out of an innate desire to constantly remind others of his superiority complex, and out of an animosity for her potential involvement. He didn’t know why the latter bothered him so much, only that it did. He left her with those less-than-kind words, and not another thought for her. Somehow, Akechi knew that if he pondered any longer, he might have started to feel a little bad.

 

And that’s when he realized what was missing. His ego was gone. 

 

Was it really the worst thing, he wondered to himself as he frantically ran in no proper direction out of his apartment to find his missing self. Akechi found himself being modest when a woman with her child had stopped him at the convenience store to compliment his way with words on television last night. He actually suffered a blush at her words when he’d usually feel absolutely nothing, knowing that he was important and needed no reminder of it. 

 

It was even stranger when he saw an elementary school kid get his money stolen by some older kids right in front of him. He would’ve loved the opportunity to think how he deserved as such for being so careless in the past, and yet he found his body responding like a flash of red before him. He raced after the older kids and swiped the wallet out of their hands before returning it to the sobbing child. 

 

Where the hell did the other half of him go? Why did he suddenly wake up and find himself as a Robin Hood type persona-

 

And that’s when he realized  _ who  _ was missing. 

 

Loki.

 

———

 

Makoto tapped the end of her pencil on the textbook in front of her. The words in front of her seemed to twist and run away from her the more she tried to hone in and focus on them. She hadn’t been studying for very long, so she ruled out the need for a break. There was something that felt so off and awful, and as much as she tried not to think about it, Akechi Goro’s words kept coming back to her.

 

_ Good girl. _

 

_ Type of pushover. _

 

_ Maybe I am enjoying this.  _

 

She let out a small noise, clutching her forehead as if that would do any good to force his words out of her head. The damage was done, and it stung and burned through her skin. It was like he’d stuck a hot rod right through the internal parts of her that he knew would hurt, or taken a knife and twisted it over and over again. She hated this feeling so much that she could do nothing but throw the book shut. She heaved a loud sigh before she heard some sort of wicked laughter behind her. 

 

“Still thinking about those words, are you?” came the low, raspy voice of the last person she had wanted to see.

 

Makoto knew Akechi was behind her, and she’d give him no satisfaction in turning around and acknowledging his arrival. She wouldn’t need to do so, for he pulled up the chair right next to her and propped his cheek on his elbow. She counted down from five, and then turned to glare at him. Her face almost changed instantly when she saw him —something truly twisted had overcome his appearance and demeanor. The detective that usually arrived cool and collected looked almost unkempt and was giving her the most disturbed look in his eyes. Something was wrong.

 

“Akechi… kun?” she asked worriedly.

 

He was unhinged, definitely, with the way he was grinning at her so weirdly flirtatiously and his eyes were giving her an almost depraved state like a predator. Who was he really? 

 

“Studying, Makoto? Or trying to?” he jabbed.

 

“... You really just sat down next to me to get under my skin from the get go? You really are an asshole,” she sighed exasperatedly.

 

He started it, she rationalized.

 

“And proud of it,” he added. 

 

Makoto cocked a brow now. She put her pencil down for fear of stabbing him with it. She cleared her throat before glancing around the coffee shop —how did he find her here anyways — and then leaned in close. Akechi’s grin only widened and he closed the space even further, forcing her to lean back a little shyly. 

 

“Are you sick?” she asked in all seriousness, “Have you lost your mind?”

 

“Maybe just a little. But aren’t we all a little mad?” he asked gruffly.

 

Makoto flushed at the response, and even redder when his gloved hand reached for a strand of her hair. She pulled away quickly, suddenly afraid and undeniably interested in what had happened seemingly overnight to tip his personality in such a way. Was this just his obtuse method of apologizing? 

 

“We need to get you to the doctor’s. I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you definitely need to see one,” Makoto said seriously. 

 

“You’re not even going to assume for a second that I’ve dropped that charismatic detective persona I put on for show?” he asked her in amusement, “Just for you?”

 

“I wouldn’t know if  _ this  _ is equally a ploy as that fake personality you have,” she seethed.

 

“Mmm, we all have different facets to us, Makoto. I don’t know what’s so difficult to understand.” 

 

“You're  _ fucked  _ up,” she scoffed, “I won’t allow you to toy with me any further, so get out of my sight.”

 

If the real, full Akechi Goro were here, he might have been impressed by the sudden bravado she had grown overnight. Alas, and unbeknownst to Makoto, she was sitting with the supposed other half of Akechi. The one before her was Loki, and the poor girl was none the wiser. Unfortunately for her, her words didn’t phase him, if anything, it fanned at the flames of his desire to provoke her even further. How long until that good girl facade she hid behind melt before him? 

 

When he didn’t budge an inch, Makoto looked away and began to stuff her heavy textbook back into her school bag. It wasn’t long before she was nearly on her feet and out the door, until she felt the detective grab her by the wrist. Even with their difference in position, Akechi found no difficulty holding her still even as she pulled away. 

 

“Let go of me,” she said dangerously.

 

Makoto almost hoped he wouldn’t, ready to put some of those defensive aikido techniques she had learned over the years to proper use. Something had changed yet again —the unfamiliar Akechi had turned to look at something behind her, lips pulling into a taut smirk. He stood up quickly, eyes never turning from what or  _ who  _ was behind her until he noticed she was starting to pick up suspicions on what was so interesting. She was indignant, and then Akechi pulled her body flushed against his and kissed her.

 

———

 

Akechi Goro would like to believe that he was more Robin Hood than Loki. And as the protagonist and victim of this supposed story where his other half had gone missing, he decided he’d refer to himself as Robin Hood for the time being. He always liked the idea of being a hero, being appreciated and loved wherever he went, and yet it was so difficult to come by such attention much to his dismay. He wasn’t naturally charismatic, perhaps, and with Loki no longer holding him back, maybe he had a fair shot at becoming who he was meant to be. He was realizing this now, especially while ruminating in guilt for his behavior towards Makoto. Naturally, Robin Hood would seek her out to apologize, perhaps help her out with an errand she had to run that day, or maybe he’d buy her lunch as an apology. 

 

This was a good idea, he decided, and he felt like he was glowing and tingling just from the thought that he would be able to make amends to Makoto. He meant her no harm, for sure, he was simply too rash and his  _ ego _ got the best of him when there was no room for it. 

 

Robin Hood had a good memory, remembering that just once in the past, he had encountered Makoto sitting by the window of a tiny cafe on a Sunday afternoon studying. Akechi wasn’t one to avoid her, but he certainly didn’t greet her then. He placed his order for coffee, eyeing what she was writing down in her notes for a brief moment, and then locked eyes with her a split second. His snobbish self only gave her a smirk before he was well on his way without a single acknowledgement. Robin Hood felt his body cringe at the memory —how dare his full self be such a rude and distasteful person in the past? It was all Loki’s fault, obviously. 

 

He wondered for a brief moment if there was even a point to seeking her out. He might have sought the police, which he knew was ineffective most of the time, but Robin Hood knew that like most unfortunate telltales such as these, he’d likely get his full personality back when he made amends. Fairy tales with happy endings were always like this, he believed. He had wronged Makoto, woke up to being split into two, and he’d return to normal once he apologized to her. The worst case scenario, he could trust that she might be kind enough to understand his plight and help him out. Akechi Goro was fond of her, for certain, and Robin Hood couldn’t help but agree. 

 

It was a Sunday yet again, and on a hunch, the keen and cunning Robin Hood made his way to the cafe in hopes of finding Makoto. When he found it, he quickly glanced around the place, and his body froze when he found the student council president with his mirrored self. Neither one of them had noticed him just yet, and he stood like this for a moment, head running with any ideas of how he might get her away from Loki. Makoto appeared angry, no doubt thanks to the garish egotistical side of Akechi Goro at maximum display. A tinge of jealousy overcame the poor hero as he watched the unsavory interaction before him. He couldn’t hear any words just yet, but Robin Hood felt the need to make things right with Makoto, undoing any damage the mischievous Loki might have done. 

 

Robin Hood felt his blood turn cold when his other self turned and caught a glimpse of him. Unlike his weaker self, Loki had little reaction to seeing his other self, as if he had only been expecting his arrival and Robin Hood was simply late per usual. He reached for Makoto’s wrist now, and Robin Hood swore he started to say something but couldn’t. All he could do was watch Loki pull Makoto against him and kiss her. 

 

The sight was strange, and for whatever reason, Robin Hood felt the heroic side of him rush through him in full force —the desire to save the damsel from the wicked, evil being. But how? He’d only scare her. Unfortunately for him, he’d have to do nothing at all. Before Makoto could open her mouth and scoff at Loki’s uncalled for behavior, he had turned her body fully around so that she could see Robin Hood. 

 

The world around them suddenly stopped, and Makoto was in the midst of all of it. Those around them seemingly turned a blind eye to what was unfolding, and for a moment there, she swore she couldn’t breathe. It was only natural that she was dreaming, right? And yet, with Loki adorning the usual blazer suit that the detective wore, leaving Robin Hood in a simple white dress shirt and no tie to show for it, Makoto knew that this was no dream. So, she did what she usually did when one encountered two exact replicas of a person she despised, and fainted.

 

———

 

The air was warm when Makoto began to stir awake. She didn’t dare open her eyes just yet, wrapping the blanket that had been placed over body closer. Her heart sank when she realized it wasn’t her own, and only then did she peek through half-lidded at what fate awaited her. She was surprised to see that there was no one there in the room that she didn’t recognize. Gasping, she threw the blanket over and climbed out of bed when she spotted the signature attaché case that belonged to Akechi Goro sitting on the corner of the room. 

 

“You’re awake,” the inevitable voice came. 

 

She looked up in the direction of which she heard it, and couldn’t pinpoint which one of the twins had said it. 

 

“I suppose one of you is going to tell me what the hell is going on?” she asked hopefully. 

 

“Makoto-“ 

 

“We’ve been split into two,” Loki interrupted, “This one would’ve spent an eternity explaining it if you let him.”

 

“Split… as in, you’re not copies of Akechi?” Makoto asked quizzically.

 

“No,” Robin Hood replied, “We make up two halves of Akechi Goro. In my time alone, I realized that my… egotistical self had gone missing and-“

 

“And I certainly didn’t miss that fake pleasant boy personality that everyone seems to think I really am,” Loki scoffed.

 

“Essentially, Makoto,” Robin Hood continued, “I surmised that if I were to make amends to you that maybe this would be the key to reversing our split. And so I wanted to begin by apologizing for-“

 

“Wait,” Makoto interrupted, “... The facets that  _ this  _ Akechi told me about earlier… This really is who Akechi Goro is deep down?” 

 

“Oh, don’t say it like that,” Loki rolled his eyes, “There’s effectively three faces to all of us, wouldn’t you agree? The proper proverb —a face you show the world, another you show your friends and family, and the one you never show to anyone.” 

 

“... I’m guessing you’re the face he decided never to show anyone,” Makoto concluded.

 

“Precisely,” Robin Hood answered.

 

“It’s as if… you’re different personas that Akechi wears,” Makoto thought to herself.

 

Loki and Robin Hood glanced at each other, knowing very well that Makoto had yet to discover the Metaverse, and if they were both correct in their true desires, neither wanted her to find it at all. It was obvious in what Akechi Goro had intended for when he pushed doubt into her mind the other day. Or maybe, he knew it would be a push into the direction of awakening? Here in their tiny room, they knew that untapped power surely existed. After all, they were personas incarnate. 

 

“After discussing this at length with er… Goro-“

 

“You had no problem calling me Loki just earlier,” he smirked. 

 

“Loki,” Robin Hood flushed in embarrassment for referring to his other self as such, “We’d like to keep this between us three if possible while we search for a way to reverse this.”

 

Makoto pressed her hand to her chin, thinking deeply about the possibilities available to them. 

 

“A face you show no one else. So that would be Loki,” she said slowly, “That’s the uninhibited part of Akechi, I’d presume?”

 

“That’s correct, it seems,” Robin Hood said.

 

“And you. You’re unbearably nice and charismatic like the face he shows to the rest of the world. I’m surprised. You really do seem like a prince almost if I didn’t have that run in with Akechi yesterday.”

 

Makoto’s eyes softened when she saw Robin Hood flush in response to her statement. His face read as apologetic, removed and detached from the usual calm demeanor that Akechi Goro would have donned. 

 

“Almost,” she said softly, “I believe if we found a way to put both of you together, then we’d have the Akechi Goro that everyone knows and loves, correct?” 

 

“Love, huh?” Loki smirked.

 

“Tolerates, then,” Makoto frowned, “Why don’t you try running at each other at full speed, maybe that would solve everything?”

 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Loki laughed lowly.

 

“I’d thoroughly enjoy it, yes,” Makoto sneered. 

 

“L-let’s not go with that one, Makoto,” Robin Hood pleaded, “This split happened overnight, so I doubt anything physical would bring us back together.”

 

“Why don’t we just go back to bed, then?” Loki proposed, “This whole thing is such a bore and Miss Class President here isn’t making things any better standing around here.”

 

“... You’re irritatingly calm,” Makoto fumed.

 

“It’s best not to worry about this more than we’re capable of, Makoto,” Robin Hood said calmly, “It’s our burden to bear.”

 

“Unbelievable. You really do only have the prince personality that Akechi has,” Makoto said quietly. 

 

Loki snickered when he noticed that Robin Hood’s eyes darted over Makoto nervously, incapable of taking such a hoisted compliment. His grin widened with a horrible idea. 

 

“Why don’t we just tell her, Robin Hood,” Loki suggested, “Personas, the Metaverse, all of it.”

 

“Loki!” 

 

“Metaverse?” Makoto asked slowly. 

 

“Well, it’s out now,” Loki chuckled.

 

“No thanks to you,” Robin Hood shot back, “We can’t tell her. It’s not up to us.”

 

“Guess we’ll need to erase her memory then?” Loki smirked further, and then he pulled Makoto to him.

 

Robin Hood nearly froze again when he realized what Loki was starting to do. He couldn’t stand seeing him try to kiss her again - why? Before he could card through the potential reasons, he found himself pulling Makoto to himself and tilting her face to his own, claiming her lips like the assailant had earlier. 

 

“Why… Why does this keep happening?” Makoto asked wearily.

 

“Makoto, listen to me,” Robin Hood pulled her face close to his, “About yesterday, I’m sorry.” 

 

“Yesterday… at cram school?” she asked.

 

“Yes. Everything I said at the time… I can’t take back what was said, but from the bottom of my heart, I apologize.”

 

“It doesn’t make it any less true,” she replied.

 

“Then my apology… you won’t accept it?” 

 

Makoto knew she was looking at the part of Akechi that must’ve felt guilt, pity and pain. He wore his face as such, twisted in turmoil that sent a shiver up her spine in unfamiliarity. It was strange, and yet, there was this sort of truth and honesty that she felt in his words. But no, those words had seeped deep into her skin, made a home in her body and taken over her entirely. She could do nothing but shake her head. 

 

“Ahh, I see what game you’re playing,” Loki finally said, “You think you can fix all of this by mending what you did. How very on brand for you.”

 

“I… if me accepting your apology was all it took to put you two back together, then that would be one thing. But-“

 

“She wouldn’t truly forgive you,” Loki sighed, “How hard is it to understand? Besides, bearing the burden all by yourself, you really are spineless.”

 

“If your words are meant to wound me, I suppose I should tell you that I’m more concerned about other things,” Robin Hood replied.

 

“Fine, let’s play a game then. You seem hellbent on your strategy, I’ll give you that. You want her forgiveness, you simply need to take it,” Loki told him.

 

Robin Hood didn’t have time to react before Loki pulled Makoto back to him. This time, his actions were rougher, more refined and expert. She was met with his tongue between her lips and his hand on her neck. Even in her inexperience, she knew that Loki had something up his sleeve that Akechi most likely tucked away because he had seen it as unnecessary. With these thoughts in mind, Makoto seemingly surrendered to his touch for a moment. He’d taken her first kiss earlier already, there was nothing more for her to lose.

 

His counterpart wasn’t having it, however. Watching that sort of reckless behavior with a girl that Akechi Goro would go on to interact with was unacceptable, and soon Makoto found herself being thrown around by the two of them. Their antics made her dizzy, and in some sort of blur, she had seemingly lost track of who was who. 

 

“Makoto… is that all it would take? I’d simply have to earn your forgiveness?” Robin Hood asked pathetically, “You know that I would-”

 

“Oh, don’t make me laugh. Isn’t taking something that’s yours by force that much more fun?” Loki pressed, wrapping his arm around Makoto’s waist.

 

Somewhere between their banter, Makoto had sank against Robin Hood’s chest, seeking his comfort from the terrible, terrible Loki. Even so, she couldn’t deny that there was a pang of discomfort pooling at her stomach in the way that he touched her. It ignited a fire that seemed to be burning all along. Loki didn’t seem to like that Makoto was favoring his counterpart, and he grew rapidly possessive. The words love and acknowledgment started to blur a thin line, and soon his desire to possess and claim got the best of him. He snaked his hand up the back of her shirt, forcing out the smallest moan from her lips. He knew that the  _ gentlemanly  _ Robin Hood wouldn’t be able to deny himself from the girl he had been crushing on for the last year.

 

“ _ This _ is the game you mean to play?” Robin Hood seethed.

 

“Afraid?” Loki asked. 

 

“Playing with a girl’s heart is one thing. Taking what’s not  _ ours  _ is entirely unforgivable,” Robin Hood scolded.

 

Loki grinned as his hand reached around her stomach. Makoto didn’t seem to push either one of them away, much to Robin Hood’s surprise. There was a coil around her body that she wanted so much to give in to, and with the way that Loki was hovering his lips over the back of her neck, and Robin Hood was pressing his fingers along her cheek gently, was there any room for her to say no? 

 

“Please,” she murmured.

 

_ Just make this nightmare end. Bring him back to me. Akechi Goro. Give him back to me.  _

 

“If this will make him come back, then…” Makoto relented.

 

She heard Robin Hood curse lowly before he pressed his lips gently against hers. 

 

“Close your eyes,” he pleaded.

 

She did just that, and for a brief moment, she could’ve sworn that they had become one again. In Loki, she felt the possessiveness that could only belong to Akechi if he had a lover. In Robin Hood, there was a gentleness that had ultimately won her over. Knowing that it was a facade —a mask —he put on for the rest of the world, Makoto wanted more and more for that to belong to her. And when she was met with Loki instead, she placed both together and it felt like it was Akechi seeking her love and acknowledgment. 

 

“What do you say, Makoto?” came the coo of Loki from behind her, his lips trailing further along the side of her neck, “Be a good girl.”

 

With that nickname, she felt the jab from yesterday come reeling back. 

 

“Tell me you don’t mean it,” she hissed, “Take back what you said.”

 

“Which part?” he asked in a sing-song manner, pulling lightly on her short brown hair, giving Robin Hood the opportunity to press soft kisses at the base of her neck, “The pushover part? Or the fact that you are, and always will be,  _ a good girl?” _

 

Robin Hood grew angry at his twin’s game, his kisses turning more and more rough by the second as if to desperately make up for the hole that Loki kept digging them into. When Makoto let out a soft cry, Loki couldn’t help but snicker. His fingers traveled down her navel, slipping through the crevice of her skirt there as he pulled on the zipper behind her.

 

“The Metaverse,” Makoto said quickly, “Tell me about the Metaverse and I’ll forgive you.”

 

Robin Hood grit his teeth, really despising Loki more than ever at the moment. Makoto opened her eyes to show him that she was serious, her mouth parted pretty and breathless as she muttered a plea to Robin Hood alone.

 

_ It’s the place where I do all my dirty work. It’s where I go to kill, to prepare mental shutdowns, to watch over the filthy Phantom Thieves.  _ Is that what she wanted to hear? 

 

“I can’t,” he apologized, “Please. It’s not safe for you to know, Makoto.” 

 

_ I don’t know what I would do if you hated me. _

 

“How will we know you’re just going to run off with that information and we’re stuck here in our separate bodies?” Loki asked her. 

 

“I… I know I’ll forgive you. I’ll find it in my heart to forgive you,” she said quickly, goosebumps traveling up and down her skin with his raspy voice by her ear and his hand mere inches away from her mound. 

 

“It’s another world,” Loki told her breathily, “It’s where we go when-”

 

“It’s how the Phantom Thieves change people’s hearts,” Robin Hood said quickly.

 

Makoto let out the smallest gasp when Loki slipped his hand down her leggings. He hadn’t been lying, per se. But it wasn’t the only truth, nor the whole truth. 

 

“How do you know how the Phantom Thieves operate?” she asked.

 

“That’s not part of the bargain, Makoto,” Robin Hood said firmly. 

 

Loki whistled lowly at how becoming Robin Hood was starting to appear. The true protector and hero of the people in the end, protecting the girl he cared about. But she didn’t need to know that just yet. 

 

“Forgive me,” Robin Hood said just as quickly, “It’s not my place to stop you from supporting the Phantom Thieves but… to join their cause now that you’re aware of the Metaverse is another thing.” 

 

“I suppose that means you hold up your end of the bargain, my dear,” Loki laughed darkly, “Show us your forgiveness and show poor Robin Hood back in his place.” 

 

The answer had left Makoto with more questions than before, blocking her ability to forgive. As if already sensing this, Loki had resorted to seducing her once more. Her arms were tangled behind her back and he held them in place easily with one hand. Even as she struggled and bucked against him, Robin Hood had been holding her face, seeking forgiveness in her eyes. Watching the impressive blush on her face as Loki touched her only drove the poor gentleman close to snapping. He wanted part of it as well, and yet, he couldn’t find it in his heart to touch Makoto even with her breasts pressed up against him and her body writhing from Loki’s touch. A true gentleman until the very end, it seemed. 

 

Loki didn’t get very far even with his fingers down the front of her leggings. Makoto would uphold her end of the bargain and forgive him. Robin Hood pressed soft and reassuring kisses along her cheek, murmuring words of apology as he did so. The two dichotomies only made her body break down in want, and for the first time, Makoto seemed to kiss him back. It was strange for him at first, but with his heart pounding against his chest, and his desperation to change back, Robin Hood placated her response with more kisses. Loki grew jealous, twisting Makoto back around so that their kiss broke, and then he claimed her lips for his own. 

 

“This would not be a healthy relationship,” he growled sardonically, “I don’t like to share.”

 

“You say that like I’m already yours,” Makoto hissed against Loki, pressing her lips against him intangibly rough and opposite. 

 

“I dare you to flock to someone else,” he challenged, “I’m afraid that’d be the end for you-”

 

“That’s enough, Loki,” Robin Hood scolded, pulling Makoto’s back flush against his chest, “Need I remind you we have still have a job to do here?”

 

“Job? This is all a game, Robin Hood,” Loki laughed, “I bet you wouldn’t be so uptight if the goal was to make her belong to us.”

 

The thought entered his mind for a moment, and then he wondered how it might have panned out if that were the case. Just the idea alone, Makoto writhing beneath him because she  _ wanted _ to, and not because she was forced to left Robin Hood dizzy. For a brief moment, Loki’s hand was replaced with his twin’s, and Makoto gasped at the difference in sensation. He had done what Loki hadn’t, and riding only on the thought of making her want him alone, he slipped his fingers inside of her. 

 

“Ohhh, god,” she whimpered, melting into his touch, “L-like that.”

 

“Huh. Our good girl isn’t so good, is she?” Loki teased, claiming his share of her by pulling the rest of her shirt and painting hickies on her chest. 

 

Makoto didn’t tell either of them, but she preferred it this way. Being touched and thrown around so roughly and without a care, and when it came to the act itself, the soft and passionate caresses that she could melt into seemed like heaven. There was no way that Robin Hood could deny the fact that he was enjoying seeing Makoto give in to him in such a way, and she had seemingly wrapped her arms around Loki’s neck as he kissed and nipped away at her skin. A few more rubs of friction, and she could only assume that her body was experiencing an orgasm thanks to Robin Hood. Loki claimed her lips when she muttered as such, and for the first time, there was a gentleness in that mischievous side of Akechi that she couldn’t deny. 

 

“Akechi,” she moaned. 

 

And just like magic, Makoto fell into a slumber once more, as if the act in itself had zapped all of her energy in order to change him back. When she awoke, she found herself in another bed she wasn’t familiar with. A few more lapses in judgment, and she recognized the room suddenly. Akechi was wrapped around her waist, fast asleep. 

 

“Hnn, Makoto? What is it? Bad dream?” he asked her groggily.

 

“Hell… I guess so. It was the worst one I’ve had in awhile,” she told him, shaking herself of the feeling.

 

“What happened?” Akechi asked worriedly, pulling her body close so that he might kiss her neck to soothe her.

 

“There were two of you,” she started, “My worst nightmare.”

 

“... Can we go back to sleep?” 

 


	14. proper distractions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A movie night request. It was raining today, so I thought it fitting. I’ve missed writing the two of them a lot.

The first drop of rain came when Akechi walked out of the train station of his final stop. He retaliated a bit into the overhang of the station, realizing he’d been less prepared than intended for the rain. Sighing a bit, he made a hurried trek back to his apartment, ready for the day to end and for a shower finally. It’d ruin his immaculate appearance for 15 minutes but it was nothing he couldn’t take. Only near the curve of the last street did it start pouring, and the detective embraced the warm rain that spring evening. With the last of the sun’s rays, he felt the start of his weekend starting finally settling in. 

 

Makoto arrived home right after he had finished his shower. There was a loud shuffle both from her shaking off the rain at the entrance of their apartment, and from the the door slamming shut and locking. 

 

“It’s crazy out there!” she huffed, “I had to stop to get an umbrella, sorry I’m late.”

 

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he told her slowly, rubbing out the wet strands of his hair with his towel.

 

His eyes trailed upwards, noting that her legs were thoroughly soaked, black pencil skirt sticking to the curve of her hips and her white dress shirt’s transparency revealed much to be desired. Makoto bought the umbrella too late to fully cover herself from the rain, and it showed. If she stood there just a little longer, Akechi might have felt drawn to press her against the door and shed her of the wet clothes. Alas, she kicked off her heels in a rush to the kitchen.

 

“Hungry? I can cook something-“

 

“You don’t want to take a shower first?” he asked, cocking a brow, “You’re drenched.”

 

“Only a little,” she replied with a small smile, “It’s just rain.”

 

He allowed her strange way of doing things to ruminate for a second, watching her small frame twist and turn as if in a hurry. His heart fluttered for a moment, suddenly realizing how long it had been since they’d last been home together, and he gravitated to where she had been standing.

 

Makoto looked up at him briefly to hesitate, red eyes seeking his own in wonder. For a moment, the ruffle of his damp hair and the deep neck of his white shirt made her ever so slightly frazzled. She felt a blush creep up her face, wondering how he was still so  _ disdainfully  _ attractive even outside of his usual curated appearance. A little bit longer, and she might have backed away or hidden her face, just like when they had first dated. Akechi smiled softly, a mysterious aura behind his face, and Makoto couldn’t help but return it, matching the infectious gaze.

 

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered against her cheek, pulling her close enough to feel the radiating heat of her body, but far enough away from her drenched clothes, “You’re all wet, kissed by the rain.”

 

“More like doused in it,” she laughed softly.

 

“Let’s do something,” he continued, leaning down and pressing his cheek against her own. 

 

“What do you have in mind? I still have to make dinner,” she asked.

 

“Don’t worry about that. Let’s go watch a movie or something. Those thrillers you like,” he proposed.

 

Makoto thought for a moment, eyes glancing over at the rain outside of their apartment. She could hear him breathing gently, his breath trailing down her neck as his lips sought the sensitive part behind her ear.

 

“Nnn, it’s raining. A-and you just showered,” she explained.

 

“What’s a bit of water? I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever,” he pressed.

 

Makoto shied away at his words, letting out a small sigh when she held herself back from fully holding him.

 

“We’ve seen each other at work,” she muttered.

 

“As if that’s enough to warrant ‘seeing you’,” he scoffed, “You have no idea how much these long nights of mine have deprived me of properly seeing you.”

 

“Ah, so we’re talking about proper appearances?” she teased, “Then a date at the theaters sound perfect, right?”

 

Akechi pondered her words for a moment, realizing they would miss out on the intimacy of being alone together in the comfort of their home. A little more thinking, and he found himself frowning at being unable to do much other than hold her hand across the arm of the plush seats in the theater. Unable to taunt her with his predictions of the ending, unable to pause the movie to tackle her against the couch and-

 

“Goro?” 

 

He exhaled, unaware that he was even holding his breath. The thoughts that lingered on in his mind might have put her in a precarious situation, wet clothes and all. If his lover would so breathe the desire of staying in, then he would grant her as such in a heartbeat. Whatever Makoto wanted, whatever she wished, she would have it without question, and she wanted very little.

 

“Let’s stay in then,” he smirked against the flat plane of her neck.

 

“You sure did change your mind quickly,” she pointed out.

 

“I have other plans in mind,” he concluded.

 

———

 

The roasted smell of burnt coffee beans resonated strongly with Akechi as someone who spent a large chunk of his undergraduate years in coffee shops littered throughout Tokyo. So when the usually strong smell of coffee was missing from Leblanc, somehow the couple knew that Ren had gone amiss. They were correct when they stumbled inside to an empty shop, and Futaba bent over the counter on her phone.

 

“You got the goods?” she asked, tipping her head up to shine her glasses at them.

 

“... What are you talking about?” Akechi asked incredulously.

 

“Oh… You’re not here for Ren. Never mind.”

 

They stood in silence for a moment, Makoto with one brow raised, and Futaba smiling innocently at the two of them. There was a bump upstairs and what seemed like muffled screaming, and Akechi smirked a little. 

 

“What can I do for you?” Futaba asked, continuing her nonchalant guise.

 

“We wanted to pick at your arsenal,” Makoto said, knowing not what the proper terminology was.

 

“Arsenal,” Futaba repeated back to her.

 

“She means movies,” Akechi chuckled lowly.

 

“Hey-“

 

“Arsenal… of movies,” she repeated slowly.

 

“Y-you know… like the illegal ones,” Makoto said, whispering the last part quietly.

 

“You wanna see my porn collection-“

 

“No!-“

 

Akechi smirked even wider, watching Makoto struggle with her words and clamoring to correct Futaba. His mind wandered for a brief moment to consider what kind of collection a teenage girl would have, and he inwardly shook his head. He never had such a phase and now that he was thinking about it, he never asked Makoto about her own adolescence either. They’d seemingly sprouted urges when college hit and the stability of school life steadied. 

 

Instead, he pulled Makoto by the waist as he thought about their college years. How often she’d volunteer Leblanc to be the location of their studying, and he’d frown in gentle concern and furious unknown jealousy. Now, a few years later and the pang of insecurity had all but gone, and left Akechi in a state of nostalgia. He had gone amiss in his thoughts for a bit, watching Makoto flush in embarrassment and struggle with Futaba.

 

“She means torrents. Illegal pirating,” he finally offered.

 

“Ohhh,” Futaba replied, elongating the response much more than necessary, “ _ Those  _ kind of illegal things. Oh, I should’ve known you two were too much goody two shoes to have wanted anything else…”

 

“Wh-What?” Makoto asked in low embarrassment.

 

“Nothing! I’m guessing you wanna see if I’ve copped that new thriller out in the theaters, huh? I thought you guys were law enforcers not law breakers,” she teased.

 

“God, I knew this was a bad idea,” Makoto turned away.

 

“Hey! I’m not saying I don’t have it. Just surprised is all.”

 

“You shouldn’t be,” Akechi told her cheerfully, “Makoto’s a police officer and I’m a private investigator. We have to keep up appearances.”

 

“And I don’t?!” she shot back.

 

Both Makoto and Akechi gave her a look.

 

“Don’t answer that,” she muttered, pulling out her stickered laptop from underneath the counter, “Hard copies are 3000 yen-“

 

“We’ll take it by email-“

 

“Tsk tsk tsk. I thought you were a cop,” Futaba wagged a finger at her.

 

“I  _ am.” _

 

“You know how insecure email is, right? Gah, give me 5 minutes. Gotta run to the house and grab a flash drive then. Don’t touch my laptop while it’s downloading!”

 

And just as quickly as she had announced, Futaba had dashed out the door. Makoto heaved a loud sigh, voicing how she had wished they had gone with his initial plan of a movie night out instead.

 

“Do you remember the times we’d spend here?” he asked her quietly.

 

“Huh. That’s why you were so quiet? Hit with the nostalgia, hm?” 

 

“Just a little. I haven’t been back here in a long while. Haven’t had the need to,” he said aimlessly.

 

“It’s nice though, isn’t it? It’s quaint. I’m not a coffee connoisseur, but I would say it did the job,” she commented.

 

“You sound like a food critic,” he teased.

 

“Hey… I’m reminiscing with you is all,” she replied defensively.

 

“I was talking about us,” he reiterated, his hand seeking hers which wrapped around her waist, “How it all began.”

 

Makoto felt her heart pound at his words, recalling her feelings a few years ago when they had started dating. The spark was unbearably strong, and it made her dizzy thinking back to a time when their love for one another had budded without their knowing. When it came to, the initial bouts of confessions and rephrasing, and then the heartbreak of misunderstandings, all of that whirlwind that they inevitably called love was still sitting at the bottom of her heart years later. She felt it all hit her at once suddenly, and she entertained her fingers with Akechi’s with confidence.

 

“I remember,” she said.

 

They really had been away from each other in a long while. Their hearts grew fonder because of the distance, and inexplicable pain accompanied Akechi in ways that she did not know. Soon, it manifested itself in a hard and abrupt kiss, his lips crashing onto hers expertly and seeking. 

 

It was strange, he wasn’t ever one for public displays of affection given that they were very private people. And yet, when it was Makoto, all things were considered and Akechi did what his heart wanted, with no care for the world around them.

 

“I leave you guys alone for  _ five _ minutes!” came Futaba’s voice and the ringing of the bell.

 

Makoto pulled away first, squeezing Akechi’s hand just a bit longer in secret as he pressed a kiss to her cheek.

 

———

 

The sun had properly set by the time they arrived home. Simply put, Makoto was already burnt out and she was glad they opted for take out instead of eating in. Flopping down on the couch, she nested into the blankets and felt the pull of sleep. In minutes, the movie was on and in brilliant quality only feasible by a hacker.  Makoto might have felt just a little bad had she not immediately been drawn in within seconds, eyes widening in doelike wonder. Within minutes, she had leaned forward in complete immersion. 

 

Akechi didn’t have the pleasure of seeing her reactions much in a dark theater, but he admitted that his interest was much more in her than the movie itself. He watched her frown heavily when he leaned over and whispered to her at the right moment.

 

“That’s the spy, by the way,” he said.

 

“Can you let me enjoy one thing?!” 

 

He pulled her close to him even in her reluctance, and continued to pester her with his small deductions here and there. 

 

“We get it, you’re a detective,” she muttered at one point.

 

“Oh? Jealous?”

 

“I’m not capable of that feeling, are you?” she jabbed back.

 

“Yes. Very.”

 

Makoto looked at him quizzically for the first time, and he had kept his eyes on the screen the entire time, gaze and expression serious. When the reveal of the culprit appeared, she pouted ever so slightly. 

 

“Told you,” he said.

 

She was appalled, but there was no way she couldn’t have seen it coming either. At this point, the obvious budding romance became the focus and Makoto felt herself slowly losing interest.

 

“I thought it would’ve been better,” she sighed.

 

“Don’t have a knack for romance?” he asked.

 

“Not in this context,” she said.

 

“What’s the context? She’s a spy and he’s in love with her. It was her plan all along to infiltrate him that way,” he explained.

 

“I know I just… It’s very cop and robber I suppose.”

 

“And what of detective and cop?” he alluded impishly.

 

“Strange and unlikely duo,” she said with a smile.

 

“More like partners and crime,” he corrected her.

 

“We’re not even in the same department,” she said, rolling her eyes with a smirk.

 

“Who said I was talking about us?” he asked innocently.

 

“You are,” she teased.

 

Makoto turned back to the screen having missed a proper turn of events. She sighed a bit, and leaned into the shoulder of her own detective. Her eyes painted over his face, drawn into the curve of his jaw and the plumpness of his lips. He turned to catch her staring and she blinked in embarrassment, but didn’t look away. Admiring and being unable to look away from her boyfriend wasn’t a crime, was it?

 

“I love you,” he said out of the blue, catching her by surprise completely.

 

Makoto’s face contorted suddenly in shyness and he kissed her before she could interrupt. Akechi found her to be receptive and then pressed her down onto the couch.

 

“What about the movie?” he asked her gently in between kisses.

 

“What about it? Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” she harped.

 

“You know I predicted it from the beginning,” he reminded her.

 

“Oh, I’m so grateful you sat through something so boring with me,” she said sarcastically, pulling him down by the collar of his shirt.

 

“You’re welcome. Anything for you,” he replied in equal sarcasm.

 

Makoto hushed that ego of his with her tongue against his lips. He received her instantly and held her face in his hands. With her hair splayed on the couch, the fragrance of rain and mint along her neck having not showered still, he was falling deeper by the minute. The sound of the movie soon faded into the rain outside, and Akechi’s hands reached up under her shirt to the plane of her stomach.

 

Makoto jumped a little at the warmth of his hand, but more so to his touch there.

 

“Has it been that long? she breathed, “I’ve almost forgotten.”

 

She reached for his pulse along his neck and then to caress his cheek. He might have never stopped thinking about her at work, wondering what she was up to at all times, and missing her nonstop, but Makoto had become some sort of entity. It was her voice that he heard in his head, her routine that he had memorized that followed him around all day to allow him to wonder and daydream about her. He felt it in the way a shock of lightning seemed to hit him one day, deciding that he he was put on this earth to love her, and only her. 

 

It was simple and agonizingly slow. Akechi rained kisses along her cheek and jaw while he pulled her skirt to pool at her hips. She instinctively spread her legs, allowing him entry to claim her. He took it, but not without a trance of words into her ear, professing his love. 

 

“Why does it feel like it’s been forever? You’re all I want in this world,” he told her, “Can I have you?”

 

“The only thing?” she asked, catching her breath when pressed his desire against her own.

 

“Yes, the one and only thing,” he admitted.

 

She saw in his eyes the seriousness, and felt his fingers cradle her face while he made love to her slow and steady. Her throat was raw from emotion, churning desire and love in one sitting was often painful in an unexplainable way. He pulled her legs flush against his own, groaning quietly when he felt her arch upwards. Akechi sought her neck as he always did, pressing wet kisses against the length of it as she held him tight around her. 

 

Was there anything he loved more than the reassurance of her voice, the sounds she made when he made love to her like this that reaffirmed something so raw and desperate inside of him. Even with something so tame, he felt it gnaw at him as he thrust into her slow and then slotting inside of her with need and purpose. 

 

She gasped for more aimlessly, more of his touch, his kiss, more quickly, more slowly, all of it. Her list of wants overcame the both of them, and even as she begged, Akechi held her close to his heart, never intending to let go. Near the end of their erotic tango, her hands flew to his face, lips tracing over his while she looked into his eyes. He throbbed once just looking at her mouth waver and tremble with words. Makoto wanted to tell him something, anything, even a single word to profess how much she loved all of it. 

 

“I love you,” she mirrored, red eyes burning as she said it with her heart pounding, like she was reenacting the very first time. 

 

His jaw clenched and she knew he was thrilled. A few seconds later, he had hid his face into her neck and gripped her waist tight. Makoto cooed quietly from the friction of him throbbing outwardly and then pulling out. The sensation proved to be too much when she started to shake, and contract as well. Akechi massaged her abdomen, rolling out the muscles there and pressing down to feel the throb of his cock inside of her. 

 

“Hell,” she hissed, “That was… good.”

 

“There can be more,” he offered with a small chuckle.

 

“Mmm, I might fall asleep just laying here like this,” she said, gesturing as such before she returned to stroking his hair.

 

“Next time then. I get to pick the movie,” he said.

 

“You’re going to pick the most boring and longest documentary ever made,” she whined.

 

“Exactly,” he laughed lowly, knowing very well they’d end up in the same predicament as they were in now.

 

It wasn’t long before sleep claimed them both, his warm body over hers. The credits were rolling, the movie long over, and the rain outside continued on. It sought the earth like a magnet called gravity, a concept most fitting for their love. 

  
  
  
  



	15. god of mischief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i'd give up this fight if it meant we'd sleep tonight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A double request for Loki!Goro and.... I went wild with the mythology. Thank you to [you know who you are] for the requests, it's probably the most sensual thing I've ever written.
> 
> And with that, we’ve reached the ko-fi goal! Excited to be writing for Pining again :)

Loki trampled the world as if it were his plaything, and the gods rolled their eyes. He took the shape of any form he pleased, and with it, he could go wherever he wanted to. A different dimension, perhaps, or even bending the nature of the world itself, Loki did what he willed and reigned true to his nomenclature “god of mischief.”

 

He grew bored of this one day — being a god that is — and as the gods dreaded, Loki decided he would walk amongst humans for a while. No one tried to stop him, for they knew it would be for naught. And within seconds, all of modernity had caught up to him and he was ready to ease his boredom. This went on for a while, and the gods grew uneasy within their own selfish concerns. They feared that the mischievous god would upturn the world as they knew it, shifting the paradigm and the bending the laws of nature. Perhaps humans would soon discover that gods walked among them, but not as they imagined it. They feared being discovered.

 

It was Anat, goddess of war, sacrifice, fertility, and all that was ‘good’ that chose to vouch for the miserable god. She wore her pride on her sleeve, and her virginal stature on her breast, which made the gods turn a blind eye to her as a volunteer. They shoved her request away, if they might refer to it that way.

 

“Why not?” she had asked.

 

The gods looked at one another. Loki wasn’t anything of a sexual being, that is, he wasn’t known as such, but it didn’t mean he was incapable of such mischiefs. They were about Anat, truthfully, as selfish as gods were. They worried that they’d never hear the end of it from the goddess of war when she returned, and when did she bear such tools to deal with a god like Loki, anyways? She’d sooner deliver his head tucked under her breast than bring some sense into him.

 

Anat did not waver, and offered at the very least to slip in as another human in an effort to at least locate the god and report her findings. The gods looked at her reluctantly, and then to each other with solemn looks. They agreed.

 

For a moment, they wondered if the rumors were true. Had she truly bore seventy seven children in her legacy while upkeeping the nickname of “virgin”? They shook their heads to free them from these thoughts, returning to their indulgences and turning their cheeks to Anat and their notions about her ‘fertility’.

 

Loki took up residence in modern day Japan, she was told, and they quickly waved their hands at her and off she went.

 

And thus, began Amat’s search for Loki.

 

———

 

She paid very little attention to her surroundings. In the centuries, people haven’t changed nor evolved, and as such, they interested her very little. Even appearances weren’t that far off, and given Anat’s sacrificial nature, she cut her hair mid length like the girls on the streets of Tokyo to blend in. And perhaps like Loki, she shifted into a plain woman in search for this mischievous new man. Loki was particularly attached to his appearances, and many of the gods garnered him a narcissist. Perhaps, it wouldn’t be so difficult to find a god that loved mischief — she’d simply look for the closest trouble. And deep down, Anat hoped he had looked the same way she had last seen him sitting around the roundtable council.

 

There was no way he might have made a common and plain existence for himself, she deduced. Anat wandered like this for a few days, and soon came to realize the human body she had taken on was much weaker than she gave it credit for. She was starving, and soon, she passed out on the streets in broad daylight, ready to accept that Loki had properly disguised himself as a human forever and slipped away from the reaches of the gods. So, she slept like humans had to in order to recover her strength and vitality, and slowly, her body recovered in a white room. Anat didn’t know how much time had passed before someone spoke her name.

 

“Anat.”

 

She imagined it was one of the brooding goddesses. Perhaps Athena, or even Dionysus might have offered her a gulp of his wine before laughing at her naivety. This voice turned smooth and deep, and one she had recalled before, but never at length. It called her name again before she awoke.

 

“That is your name, is it not?” the person before her asked.

 

She hadn’t the attention span to recognize the face of the person, but he was a perfectly fine human who knew her as the goddess she was.

 

“Loki?” she asked carefully.

 

“Akechi Goro. It’s my nomenclature here,” he told her, “Use it.”

 

“Akechi,” she said, enunciating the inflections strangely.

 

“Close enough. We’ve sat at the council together before,” he noted slowly, “We never spoke.”

 

“The gods ask that you return,” she said quietly.

 

“Anat… I think it best you adopt a name suitable for while you’re here.”

 

“I won’t be here for long. I only came to find you,” she frowned.

 

“I quite like it here,” he smirked, “Have I been gone for so long? The heavens are boring without me, I presume?”

 

“I’m not one to count. While we’re at it, I should mention that I volunteered to come find you. The least you can do is treat me with the respect of doing so,” she sneered.

 

“Or what, goddess of war? You plan to wage bloodshed and war against me? With or without the gods involved?” he challenged.

 

“I will be enough,” she answered dangerously.

 

Akechi took Anat’s word for it, and then for the first time gazed upon her appearance.

 

“You’ve certainly adopted the most boring appearance,” he joked, “I always did recall you as beautiful regardless of our lack of conversation.”

 

“I thought it would be suitable for the place that I’m in. And you’ve kept your appearance, as I suspected,” she noted equally.

 

“No flattery for the god of mischief, I see. And yet, you figured I looked as Loki and still couldn’t find me.”

 

“You are far from my taste, if you must know,” she smirked, “As for finding you, I know my strengths and my weaknesses.”

 

“And Seth is?” he asked lowly, conjuring her memories of their supposed romantic involvement, suddenly interested in what her _tastes_ were.

 

“My business is my own.”

 

“And yet, you’ve wandered into my territory now as a human, sacrificing your powers as goddess, and expect me to return with you?” he laughed, “You’re nothing but another human in this plane, Anat. Can you suppose that you’ll return safely without your powers? You need my help.”

 

“Am I to suppose that you won’t?” she asked in disbelief.

 

“I will not… lest you find a suitable way to convince me,” he smiled widely.

 

Anat growled, and in her hindsight, she finally realized that Akechi was true to his word of containing his powers. He’d kept them in a bubble detached from society where they might speak privately. She was at his will. With the snap of his fingers, time would begin again, the bodies of those around them would start to move once more, and Anat would be thrown into the spectrum of the plane as he mentioned.

 

“Speak plainly, Akechi,” she practiced saying his name, “Obviously you have something in mind.”

 

Akechi stood, allowing her to find comfort in the ground some more. Anat quickly followed and brushed the suspected dirt from her body. He circled around her once in thought before returning to face her. His deep mahogany eyes returned a glimmer of mischief that churned her insides in a strange primal way. Goddess of fertility indeed —how long had it been since she’d even considered such desires. She sought destruction and rage for so many centuries now.

“I want to know how true your name is,” he said casually, “This is a general thought, not pertaining to me leaving.”

 

“I’m only interested in-“

 

“I have the upper hand here, Anat, if you need to be reminded. Any punishment the gods might be plotting for me will be outrun no matter what. You know this to be true, goddess of war,” he warned her.

 

Anat closed her mouth, and listened in shock to the newborn tyrant run his mouth. He circled her as if she were prey, and such familiarities over the centuries led her to feel the power of her human body weighing down on her. The power of a god would break her, and she had sworn to sacrifice her status until she returned with him. He was quiet for a while longer.

 

“Are you really a virgin?” he asked curiously, “They speak of such things.”

 

“Hardly,” she smirked.

 

“Then why do they refer to you as such? And what of your fertility?”

 

“My people were kind. They gave me many names that they believed would suit me, and yet the mysteries of the gods continue to remain hidden and unknown for their sake,” she boasted.

 

“And why is it that I’m simply the god of mischief?” he asked with the slightest frown.

 

“No other word would fit you,” she scoffed with a laugh, “Can you think of one, _Loki?”_

 

“God of all things cunning,” he pondered, “Doesn’t quite roll off the tongue. My question is why do humans decide our roles? Should you not seek proper conviction in correcting them?”

 

Anat finally realized something.

 

“And so… you’ve come to this world to change their minds,” she said softly in realization.

 

“How insightful. Worthy of the gods, indeed,” he smiled broadly.

 

“Not worthy. I am one, need I remind you?” she replied dangerously, although she couldn’t quite deny the effect his compliments had on her —Anat never received such approval from the _greater_ gods.

 

“You’ll what? Wage a war on me and know it is just? Why not placate me with your body instead? It’d solve both of our problems, I’m sure,” he suggested.

 

“Problems? You’re all words, Loki. I’ve seen your tricks and I’ve seen you cower under the guise of impressing the gods as such. They don’t fool me,” she huffed, her human face turning red at his statement.

 

Akechi smirked, seeing as she’d return to referring to him as a god. Something inside of him felt instigated. Her body couldn’t resist him, and it was obvious in the look on her face she was bothered by his offer. He wondered if any of the other goddesses would’ve been half as much fun; they’d give in to his request within seconds most likely.

 

“How proper of a goddess who seeks to sacrifice to serve a greater purpose,” he wonders quietly, “A woman of justice, it seems. You’d fit perfectly amongst the humans, Anat.”

 

“Perhaps you’d have more names if more people liked you more,” she shrugged, “Enough of this. You’re returning with me.”

 

“I will do no such thing.”

 

With a snap of his fingers, Akechi dissipated the bubble around them and Anat returned to her state of exhaustion and starvation. He sighed before casting invisibility for the both of them and transporting her to his human abode.

 

———

 

Anat woke again, and this time in a place built much more for gods. It seemed almost inhuman, and like home. The bed she was placed in was the most comfortable thing she’d ever felt. Gods never had to sleep, and she suddenly wound herself in the warmth of the blanket as she took in the sight of the room. The ceiling seemed to go on forever, imitating the heights of the heavens. Almost. _Akechi_ appeared next to her suddenly, causing her to panic at the vicinity. She really was human now.

 

“You selfish thing, you really plan to make your home here?” she scoffed in exhaustion, “To walk amongst humans?”

  


“It’s as you said,” he told her, fingers reaching for the strands of her dark brown hair, “The gods don’t know everything. I simply seek the approval of these humans.”

 

“Approval… you’re a god,” she said plainly, brows shifted into a frown, “What kind of-”

 

“Easy for the goddess worshipped by Rameses the Second himself to say,” he smiled at her, “He loved you. His people loved you.”

 

Anat was silent for a moment, recognizing that for a moment there, a flicker of sadness appeared in his eyes when he glanced into her red ones.

 

“Enough of this, Anat,” he sighed softly, “Walk the Earth with me. I’m sure I can make you understand.”

 

“Understand… what?”

 

“Humans lack what we have, do they not, the power to be invincible forever? It would never be safe for them to know of me as a god. There’d be chaos,” he explained, “I haven’t given up my powers for I know no one in that damn space above would return them to me if I did.”

 

There was that insufferable silence again. Akechi was too engrossed in her human body, suddenly brushing his thumb along the plumpness of her lower lip, and then along her half-closed eyelids. Something told her that he hadn’t been this close to a human just yet. How long had he been gone? Perhaps centuries, and still, no human contact, she pondered.

 

“Let’s name you ‘Makoto,’ Anat,” he suggested with a smile.

 

“... Why? What’s the meaning?” she asked.

 

“A name with no meaning. There’s no meaning behind ‘Anat’ is there? Then the name Makoto suits you well,” he said thoughtfully.

 

“Clearly something you thought about,” she pointed out.

 

“Only a little,” he laughed, “In the time that you were asleep, I thought about it.”

 

“Which implies you intend for me to stay,” she said slowly.

 

“You haven’t convinced me to leave, Makoto,” he countered with her new name.

 

She pulled him down forcefully with a kiss, a passionate rage that induced both of them in shock. He leaned forward into her lips strangely, not knowing what the action meant for the gods, but Akechi found that there was something indescribably pleasurable in her lips against his. He pulled away, perplexed at why she had done such a thing.

 

“... That shut you up,” she said with a whisper, his lips still an inch away from hers, “Was that enough to convince you, then?”

 

Akechi crushed his lips to hers again, seeking that strange and exotic feeling. The loneliness and pain he had felt in what his pride had forced him to do was suddenly numbed by the feeling of her human body.

 

Yes, it was pride that kept him on earth, and pride that sent him from the heavens. It was all his own doing, and yet, there was unspeakable loneliness no matter which side he chose. He placated the gods as a jester for too long, and that seemed to eat away at him. Who would think that gods had such a complex nature?

 

He forgot all of that when he kissed Makoto, all the insecurities of being a god, and all the in betweens. There was just him in his godliness, and her in her primitive state of human acceptance. She simply listened to her body and relied on what it was telling her. It told her to pull him closer, and so she did. Akechi crawled into bed with her, pulling the blanket off of her so that he might feel the warmth of her body.

 

“I haven’t done this in so long,” he sighed against the plane of her stomach, reveling in the scars that were there, “Couldn’t quite separate from these, hm?”

 

“They’re reminders,” she told him quietly, taking his hand and tracing his fingers up where the blades had once wounded her, “Surely you have them too.”

 

“Not as many as you, goddess of war,” he laughed lowly, and then dipped his face to feel the curve of her muscles, and the faded markings, “Tell me, what is the meaning of this?”

 

“Loneliness,” she said with a sigh when he pressed a soft kiss to her navel, “You want me to understand you, don’t you? Make me understand.”

 

Akechi looked at her and returned to her lips once more. There was something unspeakable about the way Anat allowed him access, and suddenly he recalled all the things he missed about being a god.

 

“I was never denied attention,” he smirked, yanking at the waistline of her skirt, “As a god I mean. Fuck-”

 

Makoto smirked devilishly when his discovery revealed even more marks on her body.

 

“You really like these, don’t you?” he jabbed at her, “They’re your prized possessions, aren’t they?”

 

“I’d say you like them too,” she pointed out, blushing heavily at the comment.

 

Akechi growled ever so slightly before sinking his teeth into the faded marks on her body. It was a far cry from the perfection of gods, and there was something perfect about the way she allowed them to continue to mar her. His tongue traced the inside of her thighs, and the god grew giddy at her reaction. Makoto threw her head back tantalizingly, igniting a moan that traveled down her body and into his mouth. Akechi gripped at her skin before returning to her once more.

 

“No matter what,” he breathed against her thin neck, “I did the dirty work of all the gods. You included, Anat.”

 

Her breath hitched in the way he used her name this time, his voice husky and untamable by the minute the more he tugged at the layers of her clothing.

 

“Remember with Skadi?” he reminded her.

 

“Let’s not talk about that,” she sighed, “Pay attention to me.”

 

“You wanted to know,” he smirked, lips brushing her neck, “Or are you too distracted to hear my woes now?”

 

“I’ll hear them all after you’ve done all you’ve come to do,” she groaned.

 

“And what’s that, goddess of sacrifices?” he asked, trailing wet kisses down her neck and pulling at the transparent shirt she wore.

 

“Hn. Fuck the loneliness out of you,” she offered, “I’d call it seducing you to come back with me.”

 

“So that you and the gods can continue to ignore me and all things will return as they once were?” he asked with a growl, “I’d rather stay here and fuck you for the rest of forever.”

 

“You’re contrasting two completely different things, or is having to fuck me not your first choice, Akechi?”

 

“Loki,” he said with a gasp, feeling Anat’s hand for the first time against his member, “Call me that when we’re alone.”

 

“We’ve been nothing but,” she said with a small laugh, “Or are you considering becoming a god again?”

 

“Touch me… like that… and I just might.”

 

He wanted to know what she was capable of and lifted her by her hips. With one easy motion, she settled down onto his stomach, legs straddling him. Anat traced her small hands up the length of his torso, recalling yet again that he was a god and was built as such. He was strong, albeit not being known for his strength, and he was unfortunately attractive, unlike many of them. He watched her from below, waiting for that wrath and rage she talked about to come. She sighed and threw her head back when he grinded her slickened slit along his cock. Anat suddenly gasped and looked down at the size of him, forgetting that she was human. She might have been able to contort her body to his size had she not given up her previous form, but here, she feared pain.

 

“Worried suddenly, Anat?” he asked with a grin, “Nothing you can’t handle, just look at all those scars on your body.”

 

“And what of them?” she breathed, hands along his hard chest, “You seem to love them.”

 

“I do. You’re perfect, goddess of war,” he replied.

 

Anat seemed to like that reply. She knew she was perfect as a goddess, but he liked her even as a human. Loki pulled off that poor shirt that hid the rest of her body from him. He growled at the display of her breasts, licking his lips.

 

“Those are words to make me stay, aren’t they?” she asked.

 

Loki grew impatient. He groaned when those horns on his head grew back in place. A god in pleasure or pain couldn’t deny his form, and he was no different. Anat let out a distorted sound at that realization —he couldn’t deny his pleasure any longer unlike the clear signs of her human body. He missed the ability to express those primal desires as he pleased.

 

“I know you won’t,” he replied, “But forget about that. Ride me.”

 

“Is that a request, or a command? You forget I’m a god also, Loki,” she said, enunciating his name and breath hitching when he moaned at it, “You really are narcissistic.”

 

“Can a god not love his name? Rather, am I not allowed to love the way you say it?” he moaned, “Please.”

 

“Come back with me,” she said airily, hand resting on the tip of his cock and her folds wrapped around the surface of him.

 

“Stay.”

 

Anat inhaled when he lifted her off of him. His cock rose and she felt the pressure of his tip at her entrance as he kept her stable atop of it for a moment.

 

“Admit it, Anat,” he groaned, “You want this just as much as I do.”

 

“I do,” she agreed with a soft sigh, “I do.”

 

“Say the words,” he begged.

 

“Which ones?” she asked aimlessly, hands trailing up her body to make up for him not touching her, “What would please you more, god of mischief? Would you prefer I stay, or that I beg you to fuck me?”

 

Loki nearly snapped from having to choose. Gods wouldn’t need to choose, but she was the only deity in this room. He dare not enter her without her permission, and there was something Anat thoroughly enjoyed knowing.

 

“Either,” he let her choose.

 

“Fuck me.”

 

Loki pulled her off of him, heart (if he had one) ripping apart both from the denial of lust and loneliness. Anat, sensing his dismay grabbed hold of his wrist and slammed herself back on top of him, igniting her flesh and searing himself inside of her. He nearly howled at how tight she was, and Anat could’ve sworn it was the most painful thing she’d bore in centuries. Every scar on her body suddenly became a reminder of her near deaths before she was immortalized.

 

“Anat-”

 

She cut him off with a trail of moans, eyes widened as she sought the pleasure that she had always been promised with time. When it never came, he pulled her back down to him, her chest against his, and his voice at her ear. Anat began to cry, holding back painful tears as she felt her pride ripped apart.

 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to her, kissing away at the tears that resembled the pain.

 

Anat was surprised at the kindness in his apology, for the act was all her doing in being unable to accept his hurt. And yet, he was the one apologizing. Perhaps he wasn’t that narcissistic god that everyone claimed him to be. She reached for his arms, feeling the fire pump through his veins as he calmed them both down. A while longer, and she gasped when her mortal body seemed to throb. She truly didn’t understand it, and yet, there was something so new and raw about humans in the way pain came after pleasure that excited Anat.

 

“Fuck me,” she repeated to him.

 

“I can’t-”

 

“What’s wrong, god of mischief?” she taunted.

 

“You’re hurt. And you’ve hurt yourself for an unworthy cause,” he told her.

 

“Bringing you back-”

 

“You always serve the greater good,” he told her, “Always. Give me this one thing.”

 

“Is that to rot away in your loneliness on a plane where no one will ever understand you?”

 

“You understand me,” he said with a painful smirk.

 

She did. He served the greater good as she did, but he did so in unconventional ways that pleased the gods and left them uneasy as well. He was loved and unloved no matter where he went. Were they that much different?

 

“Can I make you understand me also?” she asked, pulling his hand to her hip.

 

He seemingly nodded, anticipating her movements with how erratic her throbs were now.

 

“I can’t hold on much longer,” she moaned.

 

Loki pulled out of her and then went right back in. Anat held onto her pain for now, and she allowed him thrusts like this a few more times before she grew insatiable. Her small tongue licked up his neck and she did unspeakable things that were ungodly. She continued to kiss him because that’s what her mortal self wanted, and he seemed to return the favor because he wanted to. A god could satisfy his cravings a hundred times over and still find ways to be unsatisfied, and yet, Loki seemed to be gracious in her mortal body wrapped around his.

 

“Loki,” she said quietly, her breath along his ear, “Loki.”

 

He closed his eyes as he listened to her voice cry out his name while he rutted inside of her. He attempted to say her name as he recoiled in pleasure.

 

“Fuck,” he cursed lowly, “In the end, I…”

 

“Hush, Loki,” she said sweetly.

 

“You make me weak. This is why they call you- oh, hell, Anat-”

 

“Yes, Loki. This is why they call me a virgin,” she laughed lowly, “Is it beyond you to come for me, god of mischief?”

 

“I’d rather come with you,” he told her, lips seeking hers with a moan.

 

“You’re a god. Do as you please,” she reminded him.

 

He gripped her hips and within moments of rutting at his own pace, he slowed to a halt.

 

“I can’t… without you,” he growled, “I won’t.”

 

“Prideful until the end, I see. Come with me,” she seduced.

 

“Anat, I know there’s a double meaning to that,” he laughed sadly.

 

“You need only say it, god of mischief, and I will,” she said secretively, mouth against his, “What do you say?”

 

Loki said nothing, knowing very well how humans worked in the centuries he had walked with them. He pounded inside of her once more, igniting the speed of which Anat could not deny that passion. No matter what, she dare not come, and yet, her weak body couldn’t handle it. She bit back a cry, and stifled the gasps in her throat, all signs that she couldn’t resist him no matter what.

 

“The beauty of the human body,” he told her, “You can’t resist me, can you?”

 

“Loki, I’m going…. To come. And then I’ll kill you-”

 

“You can try,” he chuckled lowly.

 

His fingers sought the core of her body and within moments, Anat was orgasming. Her body convulsed in the rhythm of how he was fucking her, and there was denying that. He followed quickly, matching that rhythm as he forgot all about gods and humans. In that bed, there was only him and Anat.

 

He was soon reminded of their varying spectrum of immortality when she laid down on his chest, gasping and writhing for a few moments after. She said something quietly, her finger tracing his chest before seeking his lips for one final kiss. Burrowing into his neck, Anat fell asleep almost instantly, her heartbeat matching the rhythm of his breathing, for he was a god, and lacked one himself.

 

“I can’t come with you, Anat,” he whispered in her ear as she slept, wincing slightly when she twitched and made a soft sound of disapproval, “I’d rather you stay.”

 

He watched her tiny mortal body heave along his breathing, and for a moment, Loki could forget about where he was, what he was, and he simply slept because he felt like it, because he was a god and he did whatever he pleased. There was something along her back as well, something that he didn’t have the pleasure of seeing this time, and Loki found himself laughing to himself at the scars there as well. He wished he could’ve enjoyed her more. Anat stirred for a moment, eyes still closed, and she reached for his hand. Sensing her desires, Loki pressed it to her back and soothed her for a moment.

 

Anat sighed in her sleep, and he wondered what sort of calamity —what sacrifice she must’ve faced there as the goddess of war. It’d be a conversation for another time.


	16. student council room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It would soon prove to be insufficient.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick request based on the most recent artwork by CleopatraWolf. Thank you!

Akechi sighed against the nape of her neck, and Makoto realized this was a mistake. She shivered when his lips graced close to her ear and he knew it wasn’t. Gym was in session, and whatever strings he pulled to coax her from attending, he was grateful for, but her presence proved intoxicating all too quickly. Soft kisses and slick movements of his tongue along her bottom lip were no longer enough, and Makoto found herself pinned to the table where meetings partook with her classmates that morning.

 

The zipper on her gym jacket came first, revealing a sight that left much to be desired. Akechi’s hand slipped up her shirt quickly, creating wrinkles in the crispness, and his pupils dilated. His lips gravitated to her navel, and he welcomed her slight writhes and hips bucking upward. Her shorts came off unceremoniously before she made an offhand comment about his knit sweater and how she hated it.

 

“Then take it off,” he offered breathlessly.

 

Makoto did as she was told, and nearly whimpered at the short display of his muscles when he rippled against the dress shirt underneath. A few more kisses in between, nips along her neck and ear and it grew painfully obvious to the both of them that his hardened member had nowhere left to go. 

 

“Makoto.”

 

Her name rested on his lips like a statement, but it was laced with need, grievance, and regret. His mouth found the entrance of her folds between her legs and he dove with no remorse nor notice. Makoto let out a broken moan, unprepared for such attendance —and Akechi was irresistibly good at it. She dare not wonder where he learned to careen his tongue like that.

 

Makoto was more than happy to oblige with his pained sighs against her clit, but it left her craving for her empty cavern to be filled. He seemingly read her mind, pressing his member upward against her entrance while he gave her a taste of her essence. Fingers wrapped around her arm, and the other held her still as she moaned against his mouth in a loss of dignity. Akechi didn’t see it as such. 

 

“I can’t wait any longer,” she said, her breath close to his lips when he pulled away.

 

“I’ll take care of it.”

 

The phrase was simple, and yet the aura of security and surety in it made Makoto dizzy. However they ended in this position, making love in the student council room after their heated exchanges in cram school, left her with unspoken regrets. 

 

He entered her with ease, a far cry from their first wreckless time together where there was nothing but pain. His eyes softened when he watched her face twist into pain, and then relief. Rocking inside of her slow and steady proved too slow. The sounds of that heavy desk moving resonated through her ears as he slipped in and out of her. It had been too long since they did something like this, and Makoto couldn’t deny how much she missed him when she felt her orgasm building up.

 

A bit longer, and her hand reached for his shoulder and she seared the words of her desires to his lips. A quiet groan was all he could give her before he came. Makoto’s words continued to prove the validity of their intimacy more than their release, and Akechi wished he could’ve stayed in there forever with her, hearing all of it. 


End file.
